Today is your 44th birthday and to celebrate we had meat and cake for dinner (as per very specific requests). No fancy party hats or horns like last year but I did give a gift to all of us: a Rhodonite stone. Rain saw them at the store a couple weeks ago. (He has recently become interested in stones and gems).
“Their purpose is emotional healing. We should get one.”
“Do you think our emotions need healed?”
“Yeah.. you know.. ‘cause of Dad…”
So now we can start keeping our Rhodonite stones near our hearts as another step in our healing journey.
It’s ironic that your birthday falls just one day after World Suicide Prevention Day. As if I don’t think enough about you, and suicide, and all the ways I
might have been able to tried so hard to prevent it.
But I guess I’m stuck with you and these thoughts of you.
And because I’m stuck with you, you are also stuck with me (sucker!). And I am going to continue to talk to you each and every day (that should be sufficient punishment). Of course the bright side is that I am talking more than yelling at you these days (you’re welcome.)
And I have stopped (um okay, I’ve decreased) blaming you for everything that goes wrong in our lives. Yes, of course I realize that when I’m late getting the kids out the door in the morning, it’s probably not your fault. But that doesn’t mean I won’t mutter your name under my breath with clenched fists in classic “Newman” style.
Lately you have become less of a mortal enemy and more of a weird imaginary friend that I don’t really like.
I do miss talking to you about Rain and Moxie. A lot. Despite our MANY challenges, we always united for them. The kids and I are incredibly blessed to have such an amazing community of friends and family who love and care for them. But you were the only person on earth who loved them like I do. There is so much about them and their lives that only you would understand. The week before you died, you told me that you knew that I was a good mom and that I would always take great care of Rain and Moxie. I told you that they also needed you. They need(ed) their Dad. I meant that. What I didn’t say is that I needed you too.
These days, I’ve decided that your role in the afterlife is to protect us. (Big. Fucking. Job.)
You are our guardian angel with a studded dog collar, ever-changing facial hair and a drink in your hand.
We were never overly conventional.
When things go sidewise, I expect you to be there. When the kids have taken off on their bikes for too long and I’m getting worried or when I hear a crash from the basement where they are playing, my first internal thought is:
For fuck’s sake Jason, the very least you can do is deal with this.
It’s oddly comforting to believe that you are still out there somewhere, co-parenting along with me. You agree with me a lot more in the spirit world and for the most part I do appreciate your silence.
So Happy Birthday Hoop.
Cheers to you and rest up: because we will probably be keeping you very busy.