Dear Michael,
I had a thought about a week ago that I feel is pretty important for me to record. I was folding laundry in the living room and was looking at all of the shirts and smiling at the memoires they brought up. I have been working out almost daily and my workout shirts are ones like our Midnight 5K shirt and the one from Aspen Grove family camp. I was thinking of all of those wonderful times we had shared together and how much I wanted to do any of them just one more time with you. Then a thought hit me, I wouldn't have anyways. Let me try to explain this right. We always only get to do things one time. It does make me sad that I don't get to do new things with you in the future, but I am coming to realize that our family would never have gone back and done the same things again. We may have gone to the same place, but it would have been a completely different and new experience, and I get many of those new experiences now. Just slightly different then I pictured them.
I have been building on this line of thought for a week now. It has also helped me to realize that my initial desire to horde every possible memory of you is not only impractical, but unnecessary. I still want to go back and record all I can for our children someday, but now that a year has almost come and gone I have realized that the same memories can be just as sweet even when looked at over and over again. New stories and thoughts are nice, but I keep coming back to the same moments and wrapping myself up in them like a well worn blanket. Nothing could be more comfortable.
I am also starting to understand something that our family friend, the man in charge of your funeral said to me. He told me that I would struggle with missing your physical presence but in time I would come to feel you in another way. He told me this right before we closed your casket and I just nodded and tried not to cry, but I didn't know how that could work. I am beginning to get a glimpse of what he meant. Today on my 12 mile bike ride I got to just listen to some of our favorite music and look at the beautiful blue sky and think. Many of the songs made me think of you, and wish you were there with me, but it was more than that. I began to grin from ear to ear as I rode downhill with the familiar songs guiding me along. I felt peaceful, happy, and like I wasn't missing anything. Like you were well aware of what I have been up to and even keeping me company. I know that feeling won't last, but I think that it has helped me to see what is coming a bit more clearly. Everyday life is becoming a joy along with being difficult. The future looks bright just like the beautiful blue sky today. I know that I will always miss you, and will often wonder how things will be made right, but for now I am just going to enjoy the ride and my new understanding of what is truly important and what will really bring me joy.
4 comments:
Thanks, Jen, this is really inspirational. I haven't been reading a lot of blogs lately, but I'm glad I came across this post.
My friend Heather Fa'anunu introduced me to your blog and I have been following it closely ever since. Your story reminded me of my step mom's. She was a widow at a young age and left alone with two little girls. You have inspired me to ask her a few questions, about what is important. She said that people told her that the death of their father would effect them full fledge when they are teenagers. She found this to be true, so watch and be prepared for it. The other thing is that her girls wanted something of their own that was their Dad's. They physically need something to touch that he did. I don't think you have to hold on to EVERYTHING, but it might be nice to set aside one thing for each child to have as their own. My step mom said that she was recently approached with the opportunity to posses the gun that took his life in the hunting accident. When she asked her daughters about it they both answered with a emphatic and emotional "yes" they wished to posses it. My sisters were 2 and newly born when their father died, they are now 26 and 24. I don't know if this helps or not.
I have been reading your blog for the last few months, I found it through a friends' blog and I am so touched by your courage. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences. This is one of my favorite posts you have written because for those of us who aren't going through the same experience it shows how people do actually make it. You and your sweet children are in my thoughts and prayers.
I completely agree with you, that he is hanging out with you and rooting for your happiness. I'm so glad that you are able to see the sunshine in this. Love you!
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