Writing about Noah helps. I think telling Noah’s story, particularly the last couple of years of his life, might someday help others who have lost their teenagers. Writing about the trials of 2014 is easier. It was a tough year for us, as many of you know. The events leading up to what was most definitely one of the best years of our life were stressful, but they made this last year so much more fruitful. But when I sit down to write about the best year of our life, it brings me closer to writing about the worst time of our life and I get stuck. I’ve never felt so strongly that something needs to be written, if only for my own eyes, but at the same time, describing the feelings, the events, and the loss forces me to face that all of this has really happened. We really were having *the year* of all years. It really was shattered in an instant.
I’ve reached the point in the grief process where thinking about those weeks in June is so unbelievably painful that I can’t even look at recent pictures of my son. They remind me that he’s gone and bring with them a swell of darkness and dispair I’m not ready to feel again. When I am faced with thoughts of the accident or the hosptial, it takes my breath away. Everything stops. The grocery store, Costco, Guitar Center where he bought his drum sticks, his parking spot near the driveway…his room, they envoke a stabbing pain in my heart and I can’t bring myself to face them. I told Dan the other night that I wasn’t aware your body could produce this many tears. I mean, seriously.
I don’t want to be stuck. Everyone grieves in their own way. Everyone processes loss differently. But this loss, this is an entirely different thing for a parent. Our family had it all—beautiful children, strong marriage, successful careers, nice home. We were living the American dream. And even though all of that is still true, now, I feel like we are living a nightmare and I’m going to eventually have to face what’s happened in order to heal. I can feel the time coming and I will do it when I’m ready. But the thought of facing it all—it’s not for me today.
Instead, I will head to the airport to pick up Mimi and Barry. They have come to visit for the week. I’m very much looking forward to spending some time with them. I have a feeling this “stuck” business can wait a little longer so that we might all take comfort in each other for a while.