"I'm so, so sorry you never got to go to that camp," I cry as I finally realize what was bothering me.
We have been happy and excited about our upcoming move, but will also miss our lives here. Change has been hard since losing Lev. It's one more thing he doesn't get to take part in.
I have been busy finding pre-schools for Liana, looking at housing, and finding summer camps. I was feeling fine about it all.
And then tonight, making dinner, I realized I was very anxious, my stomach in knots. It usually happens when there is a disconnect between what I am doing and all the underlying emotions.
I figured it was normal, with planning a move and everything, to feel anxious. It's another change without Lev. I had just registered Liana in a week of summer sports through the Y. I remembered fondly the sports camp that Lev went to in Issaquah when Grandpa Ted totalled our car at the corner of the field. (No one was hurt.)
Then, after washing dishes, giving Liana a bath and putting her to bed, it occurred to me that it was the summer camp registration that was making me feel anxious, and the glass of wine prescribed by Tony wasn't going to cure it.
It goes back to what I realized years ago: The grief of the traumatic death of a teenager is too big to digest all at once. However, the little incidents are digestible. The memory that was causing my stomach to tie in knots was Lev's last summer camp. It flowed over me like being shoved under by a rough wave in the ocean. I have learned to appreciate the grief, to let it flow through, to feel it deeply, appreciate it, accept it, write about it, and then go watch a stupid show on Netflix to clear the mind like a mini-lobotomy.
Lev was registered to go to a medieval French, canoeing, jousting summer camp in the San Juan Islands. It was an expensive, two week overnight camp and he was super excited. But he never got to go. I had to send the camp an email explaining why he wasn't going. Then they sent a full reimbursement along with a nice note, and we had to deposit the check. It was up there on terrible things to do along with returning his boxing equipment birthday present to Big 5. I still feel so badly that he missed going to that camp. He also missed out on graduating from high school and going to college. He missed out on sex, driving, growing up, having children. But, it's the camp that is more tangible. It's a concrete loss and I could be sad for a long time about that camp. God am I sorry he never got to go to that camp.
A year after Lev died we got another letter inviting him to join them at camp that summer, and I once again had to write to them, asking to be taken off their mailing list.
… yes, it's awful, but I do feel better recognizing what is so awful… and I miss him... and I feel angry and guilty and resentful and jealous and sad… but determined to continue on and enrol Liana in summer camp
