Remembering...

As I lay down to fall asleep tonight, I realized my mind was still busy. Not busy with work for once. Not busy with chores left to do; although there are plenty. I thought I was ready for sleep but as I began to pray, or think about praying, I realized, there is something left. You know by now from reading here that my mind is quite fast. Sometimes I wish I could slow it down. And it all gets jumbled up you know? I very often imagine my brain with lots of highways whose drivers are speed racers. When they collide; watch out. It's nice when they are all going at a steady pace, none ticking off the others, everyone in a happy harmony. Not tonight.

Here is what I need to tell you. Yesterday, as the Oldest and I walked into church for his prepatory class for his upcoming First Communion, he asked me a question. Well, let me back up. The class was moved to a building on the campus, a Hall very close to the church. Here they have functions, parish dinners, gatherings, and it can be rented out etc etc. This is the exact place we gathered for Lucas' funeral in August 2003. The Oldest had just turned four when his little brother died at ten months of age. It was not lost on me as we walked through the front doors; none of it was lost on me, but I was silent as we walked. Then the Oldest asked his question, "Mom, what did we do here?" Hmmm? I asked..quickly realizing he was remembering but not sure what he was remembering. "We did something here for Lucas, I remember this place and I was sad." Tears. Hold them in, hold them in, look away, keep walking. Silence. Big swallow and a look to him to see if he was yet distracted so we could move on. No. His eyes were boring through mine expectedly. I told him. And that eight year old boy gave me a look that I could have sworn was from the face of a 25 year old man. Wisdom. Caring. Knowing. And we silently walked into the chaos of the gathered happy people inside.

And life moves on. Swiftly. There's no slowing down. I suppose one could slow down but for what? To miss the rest of it? I wouldn't dare. I think that would be a slap in the face to Lucas and his memory. As much as I remember some things, other things escape me in a split second. I struggle to remember some things and others are just literally burned in my brain cells. You couldn't take them from me if you tried. I suppose the other things I subliminally know are just not as important, so I maybe let them go quicker. I don't really know.

I can tell you this. When I realized he was remembering what I was though his was a fuzzier memory, I felt a thrust of grief whale through me. Fast and quick. How I push it all down with absolute expertise now, or push it away maybe. I heard the other day, somewhere, someone said, 'grief is messy'. You know, it is. I have learned that there is no right or wrong, I think Angela said that to me once. She doesn't judge. She just lets me be. Or cry, well maybe notsomuch on that part :) but she does. When I'm feeling self concious about what I'm feeling, she brings me up. And although she never met Lucas, you would have thought she had. About grief I have learned through my own experience that it takes however long it does and the road is never smooth, always bumpy and much like a roller coaster. I've said that before; sometimes coasting along and others up and down, well.... a lot of up and down. And then you look backwards and you think, my God I miss him and it hurts, my heart still hurts, but even with the ache, I did it. I got through. Here I am.

So with that memory the Oldest wanted to know more about, that simple thing, all these things got dredged up in my mind. And it reminds me once more that life is so much more than how many toys our children have or how many material new things we have and sometimes its even so much more than the here and now. If I'm ever going to have Alzheimers (which you all know I truly think I'm going to have) then thank God I can remember now. And thank God I write it all down here. Because forgetting that little boy, forgetting what he did for our family, how much closer we all became as a direct result of his loss, forgetting how hard he fought for so long, well, now, that would just be a shame. A sad shame. I for one will always be remembering.

Good night.
Jenn