Looking Foward

I can honestly say I can get up and live through every day. I can go to work and like very much what I do. I can spend time with my family and friends who I love. I don't, however, think I will ever take for granted that the world will rotate peacefully every day or that the sun will come up every morning. I secretly believe that at any given moment the world just might spin out of control, or simply tilt slightly and take a very long time to right itself. I doubt that I will ever have the blissful feeling that nothing really bad can happen. I no longer believe that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes things just happen.

When I left for work this morning the barrel that holds the chives outside my back door had tiny green shoots. Had I not been in a hurry, I would have lifted the leaves I should have raked last fall to see if the corner of the "garden" that has the tarragon, oregano and thyme had signs of life. I use the term garden loosely, because I stubbornly cling to the fantasy that my yard will someday be a beautiful oasis of lush grass and colorful flowers. This would assume that a certain 90 lb. dog did not trample everything that does not contain thorns. The point is, the chives signal there is hope of spring.

But before that, I have to live through what I have come to think of as "the ten days of April". My son's birthday is April 7th. He died in 2008 at age 16 on April 17th. 10 days. Like the cruise of grief. I don't get to go some island with impossibly blue water and a beach. An island where the food and drink are endless. I have lived through all the "firsts". First holidays, birthdays without him and then a whole year passed that he was no longer with me. The dread last year was worse then those actual days. I am clinging to that thought. Because spring will follow.

One of Them

I don't want to be one of those people.

To clarify, I would like more than anything in the world not be someone who has had a child die. Next month two things will occur. My son would be 18 and he will have been dead for two years. I like to imagine him at 18. When he died, he had his drivers license for 9 days. He was getting his braces off the next week. He died suddenly after track practice. Apparently, he received the heart that was only good for 16 years and 10 days.

But at 18, what would he be like?

In the middle

Equally distant seems like an appropriate title. Middle aged, mid west, middle of winter.