Lumberpick

The paradox is that it is so painful to stumble upon a memory of Sebastian in my mind throughout the day and at the same time I am so very bitter as I feel in my body the day-to-day of his life slipping away. Sebastian had a way of walking in to a room.. in to the house. 

The pain can be a pair of his shoes that are left out. No we are not storing away his things...  It can be an item that triggers a memory of an interaction I had with Sebastian. A wrench, a can of brake cleaner, his car, one of his many hoodies.  Sometimes I find myself looking away from an item quickly or purposely moving my mind away from a thought to avoid the pain. I curse myself for this behavior. Sometimes I will caress an item of his and indulge. I keep a pair of his work gloves on his tool box that he never got to use... it was delivered to our house days after his death. He had been trying to track the shipment and was worried it wasn't coming. I use the tools in the toolbox and gently kiss his gloves when I am done. To me I imagine I am kissing his hands. I am also incredibly bitter as I feel in my body the day-to-day of his life slipping away. I am also terrified of my grief slipping away because in some ways it means memories are slipping away. I curse the life I have that requires me to move on and somehow do not have the ability to grieve every minute of the day.    

There is pain in the time of his life that he was taken from us. The last year I imagine he avoided me. It could be that I am imagining it. He was busy socially and worked a lot so there was not much time for us. This is how a 19 year old boys life should be I guess . . He was an adult and was making adult decisions. Some responsible and other I suspected were not so responsible. Maybe he thought it was better to just avoid conversations rather than be cornered in to having to avoid the truth of any behavior he knew I wouldn't approve of. I'm sure I was the same way at that age but I longed for a closer connection and even then I grieved for his childhood and my place in it. My purpose in life was to take care of my children and my value in that realm was becoming obsolete. 

I lost my son and it was painful that I was already losing him in some ways. His death was all the more painful because I had hope for the future for the two of us. Sebastian taught me that I had to let go of the control I thought that I had. He was in control. In some ways, he was out of control. I loved him so much but thought he had to learn the rest of his lessons on his own and I would be there for him when he made a mistake. 

So now I cry.