During this entire process I was told that the stronger and deeper the love the more intense and painful the loss is. I believe that to be true, when someone you barely know does, a passing acquaintance or even a huge Hollywood Star that everyone knows. You may feel a slight sadness or be barely effected. But when a family member dies, and even worse when it is sudden. That pain is intense and deep and endless things seem to trigger it.
Seeing Connor’s pictures and his friends I can tolerate, hugs from all of them, that’s ok too. What will send me right off the edge is a video. A video of him being silly and having fun, joking around and just being him. That sets off the torrential waterworks and there seems to be no way to dry them up.
I have the overwhelming urge to reach into the phone and somehow pull him out. To feel him, touch him, listen to his voice in person one more time again, even smell him as odd as that seems. Just get the essence of him out of that phone, and back to real life.
If any of you remember the little boy from the Original Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. That wanted to be on TV so bad? Mike Teavee was the character name, he was dressed completely in white with a funny western accent. He was projected across the room, but his little pieces didn’t line up right!!
I want Connor to come out of that little box with all his little pieces lined up correctly. Laughing and joking and smiling. Just being my same Connor. I know intellectually it can’t happen, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting the impossible!
I want a lot of impossible things now, for this never ending bad dream I’m in to just stop. To wake up and have none of it be true. To have Groudhog Day stop replaying over and over. To have a holiday full of sparkle and joy, to not snivel and tear up when anyone hugs me or tells me how excited they are that all their kids are home for Christmas.
I know (or I am told) it will start to get easier someday. I just have to get to that day. The first step is getting through this holiday season. That being said, please don’t treat me with kid gloves, or not tell me things that you think will make me sad, as much as I want to live in a bubble I can’t, nor will it help me heal. I can want for things to be different to the moon and back, but it won’t change the reality of the situation.
So check on me, hug me, send me well wishes. Just be prepared for the waterworks, and know they are ok, because I do.