This is the first year since my son died that the dates line up with the actual day of the week. Another first…
Six years ago today, Sunday May 6th, at this exact moment we were landing in Florida for what would be our last family vacation. Drey had insisted on going to prom at another girl’s school the night before and was operating on just a few hours sleep. He slept on my shoulder and drooled. It was my right shoulder. He was sitting by the window on the plane, I was in the middle seat. I tried my best not to move much so I wouldn’t disturb him. I remember feeling especially grateful for him. I knew my days of having “my boy” were coming to an end. He was graduating high school in just a few weeks. He was considering going into the military and college – wasn’t sure which. He already had a job he really liked and was getting 30 hours a week. He was a man and from my vantage point high school graduation was going to seal the deal. I was proud and sad. He was – and is – my boy. I wasn’t handling his transition so well.
Drey, I love you. Always. I miss you so very much. I have anxiety. Today marks the first day of the shit season. May 6th. May 13th. May 26th, May 27th, July 10th, July 11th, August, August, August. I don’t know how but it seems like yesterday and like decades ago since I saw you. I want to watch a video, listen to your voice, look at pics I haven’t seen yet. I want to experience you in every way possible apart from you physically being here. But I only have so many unwatched videos. Only a handful of unseen pictures. It feels like these have to last me the rest of my life. How will I feel when I see the last memory we captured? That’ll be it. It’ll be over. I will have seen every memory and then what?
I’m tired. I’m sad. My soul is downcast.
Psalm 43:5 Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.