Cruel mail

I am about to go out to a gig of Tony's, I took the dog for a quick walk and then grabbed the mail.
It took my breath away, slammed me in the face and put a shadow on my evening.
Cruel, cruel world

Small wooden box

Sometimes I will be thinking about how I will never see Lev again, of the things he will never get to do and see. And from the back of my mind, like a faint echo, comes a thought: "Really? Are you sure? Can that be true?" It is genuine confusion. Part of my mind is in utter denial and refuses to accept what happened.

And then I remind myself: my son is in a small wooden box. He is dead, and will never live to see another day on this beautiful earth again.

Hold back the water

Can you deny, there's nothing greater

Nothing more than the traveling hands of time?

Sainte Genevieve can hold back the water

But saints don't bother with a tear stained eye

(lyrics from "Tear Stained Eye" by Son Volt)

The other day I was started thinking about the idea that Lev's death was "inevitable", somehow pre-ordained, part of the natural order of the universe. And for a moment I felt something inside of me give in. It was as if I had been holding back the ocean for all this time, and I was suddenly willing to let it flow over me. It was a genuine moment of peace, and I felt some of my anger and bitterness melt away. The feeling quickly faded, but the memory lingers as a profound lesson.

Phantom Lev

I just had a dream. I was walking back toward my car, and I was upset how far it was. All of a sudden an old, large pickup truck rumbles up behind and startles me with a blast of its horn. I turn around and see three, smiling kids, laughing at my surprise: Zay driving, Lev in the middle and Jaal at the end. I am so glad to see them all! I know this is the "phantom" Lev I have seen in my dreams so often before. I am happy to see that phantom Lev has hung in through the summer, so Zay could come out and visit him. At some point we see Rebecca with some friends and we all get out to talk. I am getting concerned that I am losing touch with reality, since I know Lev has died yet he is right hear with us. I walk toward Lev and I reach out to touch him, and suddenly I am touching Jaal. Thinking I just had a moment of confusion, I walk toward Lev again. Rebecca and Jaal see what I am doing and subtly try to stop me, but I reach out for Lev again anyway, and once again I am touching Jaal's shoulder. He turns around with a little smile on his face, and I ask him with a little annoyance if he is pretending to be Lev. He and Rebecca look slightly guilty but also amused at being caught. "Maybe…" Jaal says. I realize that they were doing it to make me happy. And it did.

How nice it is to hear Lev's voice and see his smiling face, and how cruel and sad it is to wake up knowing I will never see him again.

Watching videos

I finally felt up to looking at videos of Lev. We don't have that many, just a few hours total.

While watching I was drawn to keep watching them all. I was glad to see all the nice things that happened in his life, the amazing opportunities he had. They reminded me of events or little details I had forgotten. They document our lives together in a different way than the still photos.

Yet, as heart warming as it is to see the videos, it is more heart wrenching. It has put me in a bit more of a funk these last two weeks.

I really, really still miss him daily and wish he would come back. I still feel so sorry and guilty that I could not help him, that I did or could not protect him from that evil bacteria. I guess my emotions haven't really changed in the last year.

I still am unable to take in our reality all at once.

It is easier to cry and truly connect with smaller thoughts:
the thought of Lev not needing his phone,
of Lev missing tenth grade,
of missing his junior year,
of taking a family picture without him

those thoughts can send me over the edge, where it feels like someone is physically squeezing all the air out of my lungs and I'm not sure how I make it through the hour, still looking forward to sleep and having a break from this world.

We make good things happen in our lives, but it doesn't make the grief any better.
It is an untamed beast that will rear up if I try to suppress it too much. It is tired of being controlled for my convenience.

I am torn. I know I have things to be happy about, but I cannot access that emotion, for perhaps the beast has a grip on my heart, a dark cloud surrounding my days.

I think I need to let it out more but maybe I need to stay away from the videos. Perhaps it is too much, yet I am drawn to them like a mosquito to the bug zapper.