This has been a rough month. This ankle break has given me time, time to think and reflect about the last 5+ years. First I lost Connor, then Steve, then the shuttering of Keyes Electric, then the accident that sent me flying through the air. Flipped four times after being rear ended, walked away bruised and bumped with a severe concussion. Then the klutz that I am, fell in the garage and ended up like this.
When the boys were little, the thought of spending a week in bed being waited on was an unattainable dream. To just lay there, read, sleep, watch tv (all the things on the ID channel that I love,) Well all those things have happened, Mark has been on meal detail since this has happened. I have only gotten up to go to the bathroom, get a shower in and in the last week work from my dining room table and sometimes move to sit in the living room.
I am BORED, I have read 10 books, my Apple Watch says that I have a serious sleep credit, I have streamed everything I can find that I might like. But one thing hasn’t changed. I miss Connor, and all this “leisure” time has given me time to think about it.
There will not be a day, until I am out in the ground next to him that I won’t miss him. When I’m watching Law & Order:SVU I miss him laughing at the “heinous” crime intro and calling an aneous crime. Saying “mom is watching weird murder crap again.”
When I flip through all my streaming services I come across things he would be watching, FORGED IN FIRE, JACKASS, DEADLIEST CATCH, STREET OUTLAWS, THE ENTIRE FAST & FURIOUS SERIES, & MOONSHINERS. They make me smile, and there are always some tears shed. In my head I can hear his commentary, and him on the phone with Jordan.
I swear sometimes I hear his laughter from from his bedroom. I know it isn’t real (but that doesn’t mean I haven’t opened the door to check.) But all I find are the memories of him, his Hard Hat from Tech, signed by his classmates, the Eversource Hard Hat that they dropped off the day of the funeral. The pictures that he took of him and Jordan. His ski and baseball gear, and all the crap that a teen boy collects.
People have told me that I need to clean out his room, that keeping it as a shrine isn’t healthy. But in my mind, once I clear it out, that means he is NEVER coming back. I know in my head he is never coming back, but my heart just can’t get there yet. I’m not sure if it ever will.