Today is 8 months, 8 months since my sweet, baseball loving, prank playing, hardworking and ambitious young man left this earth. This morning my Facebook memories was full of statuses about Tournament Baseball, and the Youth Clinic he attended on the Cape with my Uncle John Lamb. Oh how I hated to get up at the crack of dawn when he had early morning Tournament Games. But I did it all for him, because he loved the game of baseball and I loved him, more than words could sum up. Now I miss him more than words can express, and more than my heart can fathom, it is a pain that tears at my soul, a physical pain that burns like no other.
I would give anything to be back at that field in Turners watching Connor play again, heck to be at any field watching him play. My boys never could understand why I have always loved the movie “Field of Dreams”, I feel like I am in my own Field of Dreams. Wondering if like Ray Kinsella if I tear up my side lawn to build a baseball field, will he come back and play for me? Will I be able to see him play the game he loved, watch him, even from afair again, listen to him talk, just be near him. I know it is a fantasty, but it is a pretty good one.
These memories flood back on a daily basis, some of them fill my heart and my head with happy memories, some of them open the wound in my heart so the scab is ripped open again. Either way they are the memories are what I have, to keep Connor alive in my heart and soul. The memories to fill the gaping hole in my heart. It will never be completely whole, but eventually it won’t be a gaping wound.
With memories like these to keep it full of the love, laughter and joy that he brought to me and to the world. I have hope that I can get through this. One day, moment, heart beat, and even tear drop at a time.