Dried cobbler

The last night we were together he was feeling ill and not eating. We were going to make dried cobbler for dessert. H asked for it after getting in the tent, as he said he was feeling better. We thought it was a bad idea and gave him a little yogurt instead. He liked the yogurt, but he never got to eat that cobbler. I am sure he would have loved it and enjoyed it to the fullest. He was always ready to turn on that joy switch and bathe us with his happiness, it was what made him so wonderful to hang out with. I so wish we had had one last meal together. And of course many more of them together. I miss his face and laugh and energy. The world is darker without him.

I would say I miss him, but those words are so inadequate as to be useless. I suppose one might say I pine for him, but this reminds me that he was cremated in a plain pine box. I ache for him, I yearn for him, I crave him. It is a frustration like I have never known.

what is pathetic?

Something pathetic elicits sympathetic sadness and compassion

A few people asked me what I meant when I wrote that I felt pathetic.
I suppose I meant it in the use of word as stated above.

Is it Pathetic to open up your heart publicly by sharing the blog? I feel like I do it for myself to reflect on my feelings, but also like the idea of others understanding our situation at a deeper level. We have so many friends from far away it is nice to be connected and it forces me to take the time to really think about how I am feeling.

I feel pathetic mostly in my inability to understand what has happened. Still crying my self to sleep at night and upon waking, wondering what happened. Replaying our last morning together, cuddling in the sleeping bag waiting for the ambulance, not understanding the severity of the problem. I still feel as though someone might awaken me or come in and let me know that this has all been a mistake, a dream, some sort of sick reality show to see how we would handle it, and then it will all be over, and Lev will be back, and our lives will continue as normal, but with a deeper appreciation for our time together.
It has been over three months now, and the grief is not getting any easier. We are more able to do things and function in our world, but the sadness and loss are intensifying if anything. My internal clock knows he's been gone a while and is going to have to accept he's not coming back. the other day, while crying in his room, I was brought back to the same mantra as the first week- I don't understand it, I want him back, I am sorry.

I feel like I have not moved in my understanding, I just built higher walls in which to walk through my days.

We got our "quality instruction" data back at school and it showed we were the "poster child" for improvement, amazing growth. It makes me feel good to know that I am making a difference and that I have not wasted the last four years of my life. It gives me purpose to go to work and continue the work, but it doesn't make this any easier. If anything it makes it a bit harder to have the disconnect of something going well In my life. I feel like everything should be falling apart.

Tony went to Iceland for the weekend, as his band won this trip in a Seattle contest. I am sleeping in the living room, and I like that it is different. Everything should be different. That would make more sense.

Just like the sunny weather we had this summer, the normalness of the rest of life seems to mock us, sticking its thumb on its nose and going " thpppp" to show that life is normal for everyone else. Only we left with this gaping hole.

I suppose I write to understand myself, and I share it because - why the hell not?

And, yes, I am getting together with friends and staying busy his weekend, and I don't mind staying home and crying by myself either. Tony is gokng brcause he has to, but I hope he finds some fun in it. You can check out his band at www.massyfergusonband.com

Rebecca

life is not so palatable

We all want to sit at the happiness banquet and feast on the bread of contentment, the wine of joy. We'd rather skip the emotional food that doesn't go down so well. In life's many meals not everything is equally palatable, but it all needs to be digested.
- quote from Healing Through the Dark Emotions

This meal is definitely not going down well, just sitting at the back of my throat, ready to be regurgitated.

Whenever I think I might have gained some new understanding I am quickly brought back to the starting point.

I walk through most of the day having an outer body experience. I must prefer that numb, cold, outer body reality to my real one for a lot of the day, then it starts to weigh on me and I get a bit anxious or just really sad, and I know I need to spend some time with the hard emotions. In this culture we hold in high regard the ability to get back to work, hold yourself together, being cold and distant. I admire those people who live their lives being truly themselves, falling apart when they want instead of putting up such high walls. I think this journal keeps me sane.

This morning I woke up at 5:30 with a dream about being in a shoe store, the four of us. Tony and I were getting shoes. Jaal was browsing. I asked Lev if he needed new shoes. He had on a pair of black sneakers I didn't recognize. He said he was fine with the one pair, and then I jolted myself awake, realizing that he didn't need more shoes. It was great to see him but heart wrenching to wake up. Then I sobbed for about half an hour about Lev not going to get to go to France.

I just miss him, and I miss having hope for his future.

Rebecca

Words of Reflection, Photographs of Memorial Site

As a poignant closing to the first quarter of the school year, colegio students walked with purpose and an air of reflection to the dedication of a memorial space for a former classmate. Sun shine and blue skies invited us into the forest on this beautifully rare October day. In celebration of the life of Lev, a former CEC student and son of former CEC director, Rebecca Goertzel Mann, students read a poem by Lev and shared memories of him as a child.  Friends recalled how much he loved the forest and that he was rarely seen without a stick in his hand.  

Close to the 'monkey palace,' a favorite spot on our forest trails, Lev's space is a beautifully shaded area at the higher elevations of our secondary forest.  Lev's classmates from the current 10^th grade class planted trees and ornamental plants and helped erect the benches and table that now adorn the area. The group shared a moment of silence as Lev's tree was planted and as a light breeze stirred in the treetops, a brilliantly blue morpho appeared and skipped off into the trees. 

We encourage all of Lev's family and friends to visit this special place and we keep you in our hearts.

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Centro de Educacion Creativa
Apartado 23-5655
Monteverde, Puntarenas
Costa Rica
011-506-2645-5161

--
MEG WALLACE

Weight

I had a powerful dream last night. It was one of those dreams that made sense while you were having it, but when you wake up you cannot put it all together. But one part stands out; I was sitting in the front of the car and Lev was in the back. He had his hands on my shoulders, leaning hard on me. He was asleep. I understood that he would never wake up, but that I would always feel his weight on me.

I thought about this image. When you are with both kids, you naturally divide your attention between them, making sure they both get a fair share. This is especially true when they were both in the back of the car. It may sound odd, but I realized that nowadays we are "ignoring" Lev by not speaking with him, that he can never get our attention again. This deeply sad thought took my breath away.