YEAR THREE

This year three summary is lovingly written on Chris’ Sony Vaio laptop.

There is so much to say and so much has happened during this past year. Most is really more of the same. Our lives are pretty much as they were- we live day to day, still grieving, still crying at times. The wound has not healed but we are learning to live with the pain and constant irritation. It doesn’t take much to cause bleeding. A smell, a glance down a street, the sound of someone’s voice, someone’s child- the list is endless and all come up constantly. The flow some days is too much.  

As in year two, I have so much I want to say but many ideas are fuzzy and jumbled and I find it hard to organize and concentrate on what I want to convey in this summary of our third year without Christopher. It has become clear that year two was the hardest of the three. The three of us struggled mightily, especially Caranne. We believe she was a full year or more behind us in the process of grieving and those months were filled with more anxiety and sadness than can be imagined. In a way, year one was mixed with two and the three of us relived them all at once, together during that year of 2006.

Through all the pain of year two, we were beginning to see signs that Caranne was finding her way back. Although small, the signs were distinct and unmistakable. She was waking up from the horrible nightmare but it was not a happy time and her progress was stunted and truncated by periodic meltdowns emotionally. We worked hard and prayed even more that we could find some way to help her get better. The psychological turmoil was by far the most painful time we have had since we lost the boy.  Collectively we were so damaged. There were days and many nights we seriously wondered if we would survive.

We are still here and we have survived another brutal year of bereavement. Year three has been kinder to us and those small buds of hope we began to see in Caranne during year two have revealed themselves as sturdy saplings with ever deepening roots as she fights determinedly to regain what was so brutally stolen from her. Her strength of character and her mental capacity is astonishing. Her intellect and pragmatic logic can be disarming and surprising and you dare not venture into debate with her without ammunition.

But it is in those small buds of hope that we see an unbelievably strong beautiful girl, a young woman who has ever growing love and sensitivity for others and compassion for the disadvantaged both animal and human. The spirit of her brother is clearly blossoming within her- we know he is working in unknown ways to help her heal; to help her find a way back from his death. She has such a long way to go and the progress is not always consistent but it is never slowed for too long a time.

We begin and then we are drawn back to the sadness for a time- it is never willing to let its grip weaken for too long a time. In the abrupt pauses, our determination to keep going forward is always tested.  To make a small bit of progress and then a few days later to have it all taken away in an instant is defeating and emotionally taxing. And the restarting is equally draining. We know we must continue to fight. We have no other choice and some days that truth is almost too much to deal with.

But we also know through conversations with others who suffer and walk this path that this pothole laden journey is unavoidable. This way of life has more downs than ups and to stop, catch your breath, get up and dust off, is just the way we will have to learn to travel.

I realize though, that our only real hope to survive is to trust in God. An enlightenment in me at least that has been slowly growing- an awareness that at some point in this new life, I will have to turn to him fully and completely. I have come to understand it is our only hope of salvation and healing. But to throw my arms outspread and fall backwards in hopes the one that took my son away from me, will suddenly break my fall, is something I cannot yet completely trust. I wonder when or if I will ever be able to but I try and pray for the courage daily.

In small increments God is showing us how to trust. With ever clearing vision, we are beginning to see a starting point. He has sent to us in various ways and in unexpected places, a select group of very special people- those that have compassion and genuine interest in helping Josie. We began to realize it last year but with so much emotional turmoil, the help was hard to discern. But as this third year began and continued, we understood how fortunate we were that God saw fit to grant us helping hands. The enormous benefit they have provided our daughter is beyond our ability to thank and the impact they have had on both her emotional and mental health, her confidence and learning is remarkable.

They are responsible for her blossoming talent, which has really been more a huge leap forward. These special people have nurtured her talent, demanded her best and compassionately cared for her physical needs and taught her. They have done what we could not due to their professions and chosen life careers and we are ever grateful that they have been there for her. They are a small band of caring individuals who have taken time to understand and talk to her and to see the promise and depth of character she possesses. They are responsible for much of the blossoming and growth and they continue to reach out to her at every opportunity, guiding and helping her realize the potential that has been locked away by sadness and the instinctive need for self preservation.

When they speak of her talent, her character, her intelligence, their eyes burn bright and their voices paint a broad enthusiastic portrait of all her wonderful traits and talents. They are preparing her for her journey into college and they are safeguarding her health. There is no doubt in our minds God has sent them, directed them to us at this time. One more piece of this horrible puzzling life we lead is being placed by them as her journey to reach beyond her pain continues.

And as we sit here on the eve of our memorial weekend for Christopher, Caranne works in the kitchen, her boyfriend Jake at the bar on the computer as she bakes a cake. There is a tree this year, a real Christmas variety- something she wanted. She had mentioned to Kay that it may be time to put away the barren branch that had served us in year two- again, something she came home with and decorated plainly. A new stocking for Chris hangs beside hers from the fireplace mantle and again we were blessed with her desire and hope to try to regain a small part of our past.

It is encouraging but as always, a small bit of melancholy and sadness companions the event. To think back on all the wonderful holidays we shared as our little family of four, loving and laughing together on Christmas eves past, putting them to bed late in the night and then watching as Kay began pulling from closets and nooks and crannies, the hidden gems she had stored for Christmas morning, brings back the longing and the indescribable sense of loss we feel when we remember Christopher and Caranne bounding down the stairs on Christmas morning to the myriad gifts adorning the fireplace hearth.

 But it is the most welcome of progress and her well being and happiness are our reason to live. Christopher leaves a hole we cannot fill or substitute. His loss and its implications and impact on her life are incalculable.  But we are here, the three of us, together, in this wounded home.  And in the process, we must continue finding ways to relearn to live.

And now as the final days of this ritual weekend comes to a close- after the company has crossed the threshold to the safety of their intact lives, the masses and remembrances have been observed and cut from the paper, the close friends have lovingly checked in to offer their love and compassion, we will again for the third year, begin the final push to the end of another December.