Posted tagged ‘Grief’


22 November, 2012

My Dearest,

Today I took your son to play his first round of disc golf. Man was he super excited. I told him about my idea to do this a couple of days ago and I took him out to get his own set of discs. He was pretty funny jumping around all excited in the store and at the same time pretty confused as to what I was even talking about. I was a little surprised that the excitement lasted for the next two days but it did and he was up early this morning ready to go.

I had thought it was supposed to rain and get pretty cold today and as I was laying in bed this morning telling him to go back to sleep, I heard the wind whipping through the trees and shaking the house a bit and was convinced it was freezing outside…wind like that could only mean freezing, rainy, dreary weather. However, I was not going to be deterred and after mentally making a list of layers of clothing to put on, I rolled out of bed. We were going to do this. After all, I thought, the whole flying a kite thing on special dates has really been epic fails on each attempt and I have to find something that we can do without an extra pair of hands needed….

After getting dressed and not overly obsessing about the layers until I knew for certain what kind of weather I was dealing with, I opened the closet that contains most of your coats, table top game stuff, and your disc golf bag. Opening the door brought a soft whisper of air that smelled like you. I grabbed one of your jackets to wear as well as the bag. I went through the coat pockets for the thousandth time because, well, apparently, I think that you have left something of importance in your pockets…then I started going through your bag. In the water bottle pocket I found a diaper (hello parent-hood) that had been left there after our last outing playing disc golf, the day before you died. Inside the bag were discs with your name and phone number written in your handwriting as well as the score sheet from our last outing at Champoeg Park.

The good thing about having a 4-year-old in the house is that you are not allowed to stand around long, so, I grabbed the bag and the jacket and headed downstairs to find one excited 4-year-old discs in hand. As he was putting his shoes on I was putting his name on his new discs, “just like my Dad’s”, he said.

I stepped outside to check what degree of cold, damp weather we would be enduring and I was almost knocked over by the 60+ degree wind that blew in my face. I turned around, looked at Lido and said let’s go – thanking you for keeping the warm weather around for this day.

My friend, Shelly joined us as I was not letting her get away with missing this awesome weather and your friend Jason and his son Ro met us there. I was so glad that he came out with us as I know the two of you played many holes of disc golf. After all, there was still one of his discs in your bag (which, by the way, I gave back to him).

Lido was awesome. The kid was having one of the greatest times of his life. He got into the groove and would run, run, run and then fling the frisbee…no matter where he was. Probably a good thing to because we covered a lot more ground in a shorter amount of time than we would have. We had to keep reminding both of the kids to not run in front of someone when they were throwing as we placed bets on who would be in the ER first and for what injury (a very steep hill and running full tilt down it came into play at the 5th hole).

On the 4th hole, Lido was a good five feet from the hole and made a perfect throw and the disc went right in. He had the biggest smile and did a small fist pump and said ‘yes’ followed by some happy giggles.

Ro did awesome as well. Man, he had some great throws. Just amazing and it was so much fun to see them together, with Lido just following him around no matter where his frisbee landed. He would retrieve his frisbee and then run to where Ro was and throw from there.

It was all so care-free.

Lido used his new discs for the most part then, he asked me “can I use my Dad’s”. He didn’t just use one but decided that two at once was best…pretty funny.

It was a great time and it just felt perfect. Seeing Lido’s face light up and that smile – well, it was just really perfect. Something that we can do just the two of us. Something that I shared with you that I can pass down to Lido. It’s the seemingly small things like this, that start to heal the heart.

Thank you for teaching me how to play.

I miss you so very much and I love you.

In this life and the next.


ps. Your son is a great lefty! He started out using his right but I made him switch to his left and he threw a lot better…made me smile.




23 March, 2010

Today was warm. Very warm. Although it didn’t melt all the snow in the backyard…

LiDo ended up falling asleep in the car on the way home from visiting a couple of daycares. After trying to get him to eat some lunch and not succeeding to a certain degree I put him to bed to see if he would take more than a car nap…it wasn’t to be. So I packed him into the stroller and we headed down to the park near our house. We were the only ones there which was nice. He had the entire jungle gym to himself and boy was he all over the thing. We had been to this park when we first moved in but LiDo was still a bit unstable on his feet so I was constantly running after him and climbing up to rescue him from certain falls (by the way they need to make some of these things a little more adult friendly). Today however, he was climbing up the steps, walking across the bouncy bridge and the one thing I was so proud of him doing…he went down the slide by himself. No fear. Just sat down and went. And it was the big kid slide not the little one…

And then WHACK. Grief just swept over me, through me, around me. It was you who took him down his first slide. A week before you died. I look at things like this and think that you were the one who taught him how to go down a slide and now he is doing it by himself and then I think about all the things that you are not here to teach him to do. I just try and hold on to the things that he did learn from you and remember those times to tell him that it was you who taught him that…I just wish those times wouldn’t run out so soon.

On the other hand there are thousands of things that he will learn from you by hearing stories from me.

Just lately I’ve started adding to his bedtime routine. He understands absolutely everything that you say to him so I thought it would be good to start a bedtime tradition of telling you what we did that day. We already ‘kiss Daddy’ – I have a picture of you in his room that he kisses good night and then Mommy gets a kiss too. So the past couple of nights we have been telling you about our day. I just want him to always know that it is okay to talk to you and talk about you. So I hope you are listening.

My bedtime routine is still the same as always. I turn to your side of the bed and tell you that I love you. I lay towards where you used to lay and cry. The crying part is new and the fact that you are not there is also new…I hope you hear me too.