I knew what I had. I swam in the gratitude that was my life with 3 beautiful children and a wonderful wife as a mother. I think deep down inside the fact that I was aware at a higher level how good things were and felt grateful for it THEN that would help protect me. The creator of all things gave these gifts to me and I did not take them for granted. I loved it. I loved all of what I was given and was thankful to what creation had provided to me. Magical thinking again. If I am grateful I will continue to be blessed. There is no logic to that. The magical thinking now is that creation needed to teach me that lesson. Always trying to make meaning where there is no meaning to fit my perceived needs.

Autopilot

While observing the grief inside me the waves are balanced by moments of forgetting. It's not forgetting what happened. It's rather moments where I need to focus on work, a task, a conversation that takes my full attention. These moments have been a gross wonder to me. How it is even possible. These were things I would do before without a thought and I continue to do them. The striking thing to me is how I'm on autopilot. I guess you could call it a meditative state because I've shed all thoughts when immersed in a task. It makes me feel more like an animal as these seem to be animal behaviors. Dogs will do dog things and Aaron will do Aaron things. Autopilot And then I remember. Again and again and again. It's like smaller versions of going through the same horror again. It is a constant nightmare. I'm not a suicidal person and I say that before my next statement for the sake of those who care about me. I do often have moments where I want to disappar, not exist. It's a flash of a moment but it is somewhat on the regular. First a sudden flash of internal anger and then a desire to escape all the terrible thoughts. No one wants to hear this. I wouldn't want to. Naturally people don't want to be around such pain. I understand. Why would anyone want to. Maybe if your feeling the same pain. It is lonely. Cherity is there for me. She knows what I know. She feels what I feel but even more as a Mother. To see the one you've loved the most, who raised your children with such care, love and attentiveness have to mourn a child is a cruel fate. I do not see an end just brief moments of forgetting which also seems cruel. The event is cruel and even the way to heal is cruel. Of course I won't forget so I cant fully heal... and that seems about right.

Seb stories.

 I'll try to document interactions I've had with Sebastian as I think of them. Nothing necessarily interesting to anyone else but I cherish them since they were conversations between the two of us.  

I told Seb that I had read that you need to empty out the air compressor when you are done using it. From that point on whenever I didn't empty it he would get on my case about it. I always smiled internally whenever he did that. I guess he liked reversing the roles with me. 

I remember backing out the truck to go somewhere with Seb. I remember him saying something to the like  you should let the vehicle fully shift with the foot on the brake before stepping on the gas... something like that. 

Seb and I went to Lowes so he could get a 55 gallon garbage can from his room and a huge box of garbage bags. He didn't want to be bothered with taking the garbage out on a regular basis I guess. Just when it started to stink. 

When Seb worked at the tire place I bought 2 tires for my truck. His shift was finishing up and he told me what he thought I should do in regards to tires. He patted me on the back encouragingly which was such a strange thing for him to do. Not a thing he would do at home. I realized a few times he had a public persona  which exuded more positivity than what I typically got to see as his father. For some reason I'm not fully sure of  that moment warmed my heart. He had this encouraging way he was around his friends I've learned since we lost him. Learned from his friends. I guess I like to think I saw a glimpse of that in that specific moment. I tell myself stories.

When neighbors would come over and we planned on building a fire in the fire pit. Seb would barge in and take over. It was  a task I enjoyed doing so it would annoy me that he would do it and also infer that he was better at it by telling me how I should do it. I'm sure this is my behavior as a father coming back to bite me. 

Often times when I would tell Seb a story of something that I figured he would find interesting... he would respond with one word: 'Interesting'. I thought that was odd then realized it was something I would say....I realized at some point there were a lot of things in my life that I would do or experience that I was excited to to tell Seb about because I thought he might think it was cool. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't but I guess that is one way I tried to connect with my boys. 

He kept getting these gas additives at work and there was a washer thing in the bottom of the can. He thought it was cool because if he brought the washer back he would get 50 cents. I thought it was odd he thought that was cool considering how little money that was. Didn't seem worth it and I had these washers laying around the garage.

I bought a new pressure washer. Seb was of course enamored by it. When I got it set up in the backyard and started using with it he insisted on taking a stab at it right then and there. I got a kick out of seeing him getting drawn in to the new tool. I had read that it can literally take off the outer layer of the decking and as I watched him applying it to the decking I could see the process of it peeling off all the dirt was feeding something inside of him. Seb's girfriend at the time was there watching him work as well and he probably worked with it for a straight 10 minutes before he stopped which is a long time for Seb. No talking because of how loud the thing was. Just Seb pressure washing and Seb's girlfriend and me just watching him work....

Would sneeze rapidly 3 times and would often say "bless me". 

Side gate pickets. One is snapped off from when Seb was playing with the neighbors. He put the Garbage bins next to the fence and the neighbors and Seb were climbing the gate. We still have one broken picket from this. 

Black paint specs on the side of the house when Seb power washed the black paint off his rims right next to the house.

Power washer and many other things in the garage now have a purple haze because he wanted to spray paint something in the garage rather than outside. He was sure it wouldn't do that. We argued with him. He did it anyway and now we have a purple haze on many things. 

Used to find those little plastic BB's all over the backyard when he and Michael (neighbor) would have airsoft gun battles. 

Used to bring all sorts of things home that he found on the street. 

-Screwdriver

-old pliers

-car tire (no rim). 

-sticks and rocks (when he was smaller/younger)

Throughout his life was always leaving his stuff places. When he was little, it was his shoes or a sweatshirt at a playground. When he was older it was hoodies at friends houses. His motorcycle helmets were many times left right on the kitchen table. 

He loved fireworks. He would put the snappers underneath the toilets to try to scare us. He loved doing that. He would get all giddy when it worked. I can hear his odd giggle/chuckle in my head.

When he was 19 we Cherity and  I would watch TV in the living room. Seb's bedroom was in the basement and the door faced the living room. He would come up the stairs rapidly and open the door abruptly but also turn his head immediately to avoid conversation (unless he wanted to talk to us about something). 

He ate so much cereal. Our milk is going bad because we don't use as much as we used to. 

I'll add more as I think of them. I can probably walk out to the garage and multiple more will pop in my head and then out back for multiple others.

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.

2 months 2 days

 I'm not sure what grief will look for like me in the future. I think about the arc of grief quite a bit. What will this look like in 6 months? 1 year?  and so on... I was thinking that the pain of missing my son would subside but actually just typing that reality in this exact sentence brings tears to my eyes. Today I have to consider that thinking about this loss and holding it will always be excruciatingly painful and will never be anything less. In some ways it seems like a blessing. I think the survival skill will be not thinking about it as much while doing other things but going back to it and grieving is the gift to honor him. 

It is a pain my body does not have the endurance to hold always but when I am allowed that ability then the grief is overwhelming. The reality of this is like missing a limb. We are a family of 5 but we don't know where the energy that filled Seb's body went. No one does. If it is nowhere then I want to be nowhere with my boy in internal non-existence. My time will come but I have 3 others I need to be there for.

There are so many memories I have of my boy.... So many. My mind has always worked like that. Cherity said she can't believe how many things I remember. I wish I could remember more. Everything I see around the house reminds me of him, a conversation with him, an argument with him, a laugh with him. Some moments I want to take all of these trinkets of life and hide them from view to save me the pain that comes with the memory... the pain that he is gone....and in the same breath I think what a terrible, shitty thing that would be to do that... as if to try to forget the existence of my son to avoid my grief . I am also so thankful I am able to honor him with this same grief. It is a paradox I do not understand and do not want to understand.  I want my son back.  

 So much pain. 

 I couldn't keep my son safe. I couldn't teach him to be more careful. I was unable to teach him to see the dangerous consequences of the risks he took. 

It's not a debate. God gave me more than I could handle in Sebastian and I failed him. I didn't understand him well enough to find the right way to sway him to safety. There was a way. I couldn't find it and I failed. 

God does indeed give you more than you can handle. What a purely stupid fucking thing to say that 'God doesn't give you more than you can handle'. 

July 6th 2023

Sebastian died in a car accident on July 6th. Fuck this world.

Faith?

 Why are people so free to state things about the deceased to the grieving when they have no idea?

"He's in a better place":

"He'll be there for you one day like you were there for him"

These are all nice sentiments and it may make them feel better and they are trying to make me feel better but how did we get to a place where it is normal to just make things up? It's made up because no one really knows but people still say these things. Isn't this strange?  The silver bullet word to explain this behavior is faith. But faith is not knowing. Faith is hope... a belief based on hope not real perceivable things. So is it fair to say you are making it up? Is that too harsh? It seems accurate to me.

Faith:

strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof.

I also found this statement about what faith is:

"the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen"

I drove to Colorado from Wisconsin with my college roommate and friend Rob when we were in our early twenties. We wanted to see the mountains and bike in the mountains. It was to be an epic adventure. We bounced around from different spots in the mountains to see as much as we could.  At one point Rob and I were in Colorado Springs trying to figure out how to get on the interstate. In those days there were no smartphones so we were relying on map books. I remember coming to some fork in the highway in downtown Colorado Springs and my Spidey senses said I should turn left. Rob said at the last minute before the turn, "No! Go right!" He was sure of it and so I went right. Soon after turning we realized the right turn was wrong and the left turn was correct. 

I thought Rob had looked at the map and that he knew that turning right was the correct direction. We were both tired and probably hungry and I was annoyed. I exclaimed "Why did you tell me to go right?! What on the map told you this was the right way!?" He started laughing and said "I don't know. I just guessed" as he continued laughing. It makes me laugh to think of his response because he just panicked and chose a direction and thought it was funny. I didn't think it was funny until he started laughing. 

I guess my thought is that someone's "faith" can put them (or you) on the wrong path. This situation probably cost us 10 minutes of driving but "faith" in something not real could put you on a path where you waste years of your life. I can hear Christians crying their arguments because they assume if I'm talking about faith I'm only talking about them. Obviously there are many things one can put their faith in and they would agree that putting faith in something else is misguided and potentially a waste of years but many Christians won't consider that they may be making a mistake. If you won't consider your decisions could be wrong I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to you. That is the starting point of a conversation for me. You have to be able to admit you might be wrong or perhaps there's more to the mystery .

Object permanence

I feel like a dog that doesn't have object permanence... except my problem is that the object of my desire IS gone but I can't see him as gone. My body thinks he's still at work or hanging out with friends even though I read our Eulogy to him in front a room full of people while standing next to his body. I kissed his cold forehead before they closed the casket. 

I can get there. I do understand he is gone throughout the day and I cry and I grieve but my silly animal brain can't hold it for as long as I feel like I need to or should. It frustrates me but I suspect my body/brain is doing it as a self preservation technique. I hate it.

There is this vision I have from a mix of nature documentaries I've seen. There is this sequence where a mother of a bear cub has passed away. The cub stays close to its mother's body and bleats or cries for a period of time. I remember watching this sequence with some dismay as a child who has lost his or her parent. Or perhaps I'm seeing it from the perspective of a parent who can no longer take care of its own child. Both ways it stirs something in me because I am part of this parent/child dynamic and know the emotions of distress and that parental/caring instinct and the love for my parents. 

But at some point the cub stops crying. The cub get's up and looks around and just abruptly …leaves. I am incredulous at this behavior! The cub moves on! I don't know what causes this sudden change. I assume the cub remembers that it is hungry and needs to survive. The coldness of that moment goes through my mind daily. The coldness that we move on. We move on like the simple animals we are. We as humans try to convince ourselves we are more because of our special brains. I'm not arguing that we may not be something more but I do believe we are also animals as much as we like to pretend we are not. 

I do not like this thought but I think about things I do not like a lot these days. 

 Just got back from a short 2 night trip in the mountains. Sort of a hunting trip as I had my bow but too short of a trip and too hot. Saw a moose and a cinnamon black bear so that was cool. I now have a head cold though. I think I broke down my immune system a little too much and picked up the bug everyone else has been getting in the family. 

Cherity completed here Masters degree last year and is working. Were still trying to understand the lay of the land with two parents working. Since both boys are graduated from high school and just Annie in school things aren't as complicated as they could have been. 

Sebastian is working and never home. Always hanging out with friends. He's trying to complete his motorcycle license certification which has been a big headache for him. The company he set up classes with has terrible customer service. Really frustrating. 

Owen is starting his first semester at Metro State University working towards a degree in CIS (Computer Information Systems). He is only in to his second week so far so fingers crossed things go well. He has a business communications class, 2 computer classes and accounting. 

Annie is in to 7th grade and just turned 12 a few weeks ago. She is navigating the hellish social aspects of 7th grade girls. I don't envy her one bit. She is staying positive most days. 

 Also, Annie and I played Uno last night. I won both games. The rules were different than I remember them but it's been a long time since I played and Annie was setting the rules. I used to play Uno with Heather all the time when she was probably 12 and I was maybe 7 give or take a year or so.