There it is was staring at me. A black Nike sock. The kind my son always had me buy for him. It may seem mundane, but I felt a rash of emotions. It has been seven months since my son passed away. In some ways it seems like so long ago, yet so close. Seven months since I heard his laugh. Seven months since I held his hand. How can this be true? He endured so many hospital stays in those 18 months of treatments. Pancreatitis, septic shock, infections, chemo, radiation, a bone marrow transplant, etc. Through it all, he remained upbeat that he was going to beat it. And yet there it was, my sweet boy’s sock. What do I do with it? Keep it? Give it Away? I have been unable to even go in his room or move anything. In my eyes it is still his stuff. Maybe there is that fleeting hope that he is still coming back.
So how are we doing? We seem to get up and work, although some days are harder than others. Ana is getting ready for college which brings new emotions for all of us. We are excited for her and hope that the new beginning is a fresh start. Her big brother is always with her. He would be so proud of her.
I can honestly say that our community has been holding us up. This includes our Shaker community, our St Ed’s community, our clergy, friends, and family. Jacob touched so many people’s lives and it is a testament to him. Most days I just try to put one foot in front of the other. People tell me I look great considering. I am not sure what that is supposed to mean. Obviously, I have good days and some really bad ones. Mostly I feel like that sculpture of the bereaved mother with a hole in her middle. There is a hole that never goes away.
Jacob would want us to go on, as painful as it is. So, we will be there for Ana. And our community will continue to lift us up.
For now, I think I will just keep the sock where it is.
Love you, my angel.
