2008: A Lifetime Later

Sometime early this year, C says to us "Hey, do you think we could possibly move stateside for me to go to high school? You know the schools here won't get me ready for college, not really anyway, and I really want to go to college. Whatcha think?" Dave and I look at one another and I say "Well, I honestly don't see why not. I mean, we proved we can make the bed & breakfast idea work so we can always come back and start another one." Looking at Dave, I realize just how much we would be giving up to make this move. We both love it here so much. But, ultimately, we want to do what is best for C. Her school finishes up in April, so we begin planning mid-March on how to make this work.

Sometime right around then, we get an invitation to my nephew's wedding in May and, shortly after that, get an invitation to another nephew's wedding a couple of months later. So we load up the truck and make the trek up to beautiful Portland, Oregon. C, Dave and I. We leave our faithful four-legged friends Annie and Sparky down in Mexico and a friend and his son offer to take care of them for us. We are off. Another great adventure for us.

I am, however, at this very moment, torn. Dave and I have fallen in love with our new home La Paz, and know that we will miss it a lot. We make it up to Oregon in about 10 days and my sister and brother-in-law let us stay with them. Dave and I are there a little less than a week and we are back off down to Mexico, to pick up the rest of our stuff. This simply did NOT go the way we planned but, then again, we are not really big on planning so it kind of showed this time around.

C stays with her auntie and uncle and has some great quality time with her cousins. She had never really spent time with them and, if memory serves, had only met them a couple of times in her 14 years of life. Sometimes I am sorry that we weren't around family more, but for the most part, there really isn't much in my life that I would change. Even about where we lived. 

About a week after we get here, we find out that our home in La Paz was burglarized and C's little dog was killed. We don't know if he was killed during the break in, but he is now gone. C is only 14 and already she has lost a brother at 10 and a dog she had for almost as long. I am sorry that this happens to her but I know that nothing I say will change the facts.

I missed a perfectly good chance to talk to C about death and it's role in our family. It's role in the circle of life is there every moment of every day, and yet we can't talk about it. It appears that whenever one of us may want to talk about it, we change the subject. C is afraid that it will make me cry and get emotional, while I am afraid that WE will forget Danny. 

It has already started. When I don't have a picture of him in front of me, I forget the big dimples he had every time he smiled. I love the fact that he was always a free spirit and, although he did things HIS way, he was always true to himself. He loved me as unconditionally as I loved him. The difference for me, now, is that I STILL love him and he can no longer show his love for me. It makes me sad and I am sorry.

Danny, I am sorry that I didn't say the things I should have while you were still here. I am sincerely broken-hearted for the way we said our good-byes before Dave and I took C to Mexico with us. I am so very sorry that I wasn't a more God-fearing person when it would have made a difference for you. 

You would like me more now. I don't cuss hardly at all, I listen better (most of the time), and I don't yell as frequently or as loudly as I did with you. God is working on me, making me a better person, but I am sorely afraid that it was a part of me you never got to see. For that, may God give me the serenity and peace-of-heart to know that you loved me anyway.

O how I miss you. My light. My love. My heart. I am trying to be better for C and A, because they are still here. I am trying to be the best "me" that I can be, but sometimes I get lost in the fact that I was NOT the best "me" while you were here ... and it makes me sad.

Going on three years later and my heart still aches when someone says your name. It will be nice to be back in Oregon, where we are closer to your graveside, but it will be horrible at the same time. I don't think I can go to the graveside again. I know you are not there but watching us from heaven. It doesn't make me miss you any less, but it sometimes brings a smile through the tears to think of you smiling at us. Every time I picture you in heaven, I wonder some pretty silly things ... I wonder:  Do you get to dye your hair up there? Do you still have those silly red dickie pants that you loved to wear to get attention? Do you play catch with Sparky, great grampa and grampa? Who wins when you do?

Oh honey, I love you. My heart will never be the same and I am realizing that more every day. C is growing up quickly before my eyes and I see so much of you in her. She does that funny "whatevah ma" thing that you used to do when I was annoying you. Sometimes she tilts her head a certain way, or gives me a heartfelt hug ... and that is when I see and feel you here. In my heart. 

I am so glad that a love like ours will never be truly gone. As long as one of us is alive to remember the other, the love is there. You will always be "my boy". You will always be the tall, thin young man who holds a very real part of my heart. Forever

I love you son.

I am glad that God loves me enough to help me through this process. I know He will help you to if you but ask. His. Love. Never. Changes. And. He. Loves. Us. All. The. Same.