Sunday, June 9, 2013

Daren's Letter - June 9, 2013

And so my son, some days are better than others.  Some are worse.  I don't know why that is.  I've tried to sort it out in my mind and have yet to reach a conclusion.  When the pain comes; when I feel as though the knife has reached my heart and turned, I wonder why.  What was I thinking.  What was I smelling.  What was I hearing that changed how I felt so quickly.

Yesterday I was busy.  "Get up and get busy," your dad would say.  "It will make you feel better."  And I had been busy for the better part of the day, but then it crept in; the pain of missing you.  So I downloaded songs by Kid Rock and Lynard Skynyrd, burned them onto a CD, called Frodo to come with me and you and I went for a ride.  Did you notice the kiss I sent into the air when I played Kid Rock singing "Born Free."  Did you attempt to wipe the tears I couldn't hold back?

I talked to you.  I told you how much I love you.  I told you that this thing called life is full of lessons, some of which we all will pass and some we will fail and need to take the class over again.  Did you hear me tell you that you passed so many of your classes. 

Did you hear me say "I hope so," when I played Lynard Skynyrd's "Simple Man."  I had heard you said that song reminded you of me.  It tells of a mother that tries to teach her son what is really important in this life.  You learned much from someone honey.  You learned to be kind, compassionate, giving and loving.  I hope I played a part in those parts that made you, you. 

I tried to call Vince and Christian.  I just needed to hear their voices.  But they weren't by their phones.  I left them messages.  I told them how much I loved them, that I missed them, and I was proud of them. 

I don't understand this thing called grief.  I keep telling myself over and over that I am not the first nor will I be the last to lose someone I love so dearly.  And I know that Honey, but it doesn't matter.  After I've lectured myself and scolded myself using the part of my brain that is logical, the part of my heart that hurts says "But that knowledge doesn't make it any better."

So I sit on my bed and write this letter to you because when I do, I feel my words are going out into the universe and into your ears, into your heart.  When I write, I think you receive my letters.  It is no longer just words or thoughts whispered into the air.  It is words and thoughts written down, tangible, real.  As real as my love for you. 

So honey, I have my CD in my car.  It's labeled Susie's Songs, but it's not really mine.  They are your songs.  Songs that meant something to you.  Songs that you related to.  And because they are a part of you, they will be a part of me. 

I love you honey.  I do find comfort in knowing you are at peace now.  I know you no longer feel the pain your earthbound body was forced to endure.  If I close my eyes and listen close, I can almost hear your laughter echoing heaven.  I'll keep trying to hear it honey, because if I hear you laugh, then I will find some sense of joy in all that I do not understand.

Good night honey.

Sweet Peace my Boy.


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