From the Heart...

I was sad today. It's been a few weeks since I've felt the weight of his loss... That's an odd concept. Something missing, being gone, but having a tangible feel and substance. Maybe that's the metaphysical law of spirit: the more you take away from it, the heavier it becomes. Who knows? In our lifetime I doubt we spend enough time in introspection to really grasp the dimensions of the soul. I doubt I'd be smart enough to figure it out if I had dedicated my entire life to it. If it's even possible to figure out. If the soul even exists. So many suppositions...

Anyway, I was sad. It came from a TV show called Modern Family. Phil and his son Luke have just an amazing father/son relationship. They goof off together and feed off the others immaturity. Phil hangs on to his sense of fatherhood and knows he's there to protect and guide Luke, but he knows how to have fun with him, and you can tell they're best friends. It's the relationship I imagined I'd have with Aiden. I crave it.

Two Be or Not Two Be

Earlier I wrote about feeling like two people vying for dominance in my head, the old Kevin and the new, and I think those two personalities have come to a silent agreement. There’s a harmony between the two of them as they learn to co-habituate inside my skull, and things have actually become very peaceful for me.  However, I often wonder if there‘s ever going to be a time in life again where I don’t simultaneously feel two ways about something.

As some of you who read my wife’s blog know, she’s pregnant. That is such an amazing and exciting thing for us, and I can’t describe how happy I’ve become knowing that Aiden has a little brother or sister coming along. At the same time, I’m scared witless. My head fills with doubts and fears I didn’t foresee.

Dear Aiden,

             As I write this I’m sitting at your grave site. There’s another baby being buried today, and a lot of people around. I hope you’re there to meet and guide them through their new home in heaven. You know what it’s like to be prematurely taken from your parents, and you can lend support to your new friend.

                I’m less sad today. I feel guilty about that, but I know it’s what you want for me. I know that you’re in a pure form now, and all you want for mommy and daddy is to be happy until we can be with you again. We’re trying, son. It’s so difficult to be without you, though.

                Mommy and I slept with your favorite shirt last night. I know you never got to wear it, but somehow I just know it’s the one you would have loved the best. It brings us a little bit of comfort to hold something physical. In the hospital we only had a few hours to be with you and kiss your face, which is more than I suppose a lot of parents get, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough.

There’s so much I wanted to say to you today, but now the only thing I can fit through my mind is that I love you and I miss you. I guess that’s enough, though, isn’t it? That’s really all we have now is love for you and wishes that you were with us.

Take good care of your friends up in Heaven. I hope to be with you again someday.

Thinking fondly of you,

Daddy

More on me...

Sometimes I get a feeling when I write that what I'm putting down is pure gold. Then when I go back and reread everything I find that it's really just average at best. I read a short essay by Stephen King one time that basically said if you want to be a writer, you have to just write and let someone else take over reading. If you go back and read your own work you'll find that you want to change too much, and when you're through with the editing you'll have something completely different from the original more often than not.

So I'm trying to take a back seat to my editing process. I'm going to write my ideas down once, breeze over it for spelling and grammar errors, and move on. If what I put down is crap, I'm sure I'll hear about it. If not then good for me. That being said...

I have been spending a lot of time on me lately. Over the past 6 months I've been trying to be Kevin Before Aiden. That's not to say I was trying to forget my son, but I think I was trying to forget the grief of losing him. I tried so hard to be this person that I was, that I was missing the person that I am now.

My Own Worst Enemy

Words go here. Thoughts, ideas, concepts, dreams, desires... the fabric of a world unseen except in the mind's eye.

That was a pretty self-indulgent sentence, am I right?

Anyway, I began this blog to really explore what I could do with the written word. I wanted an outlet for the inner monologue that I rarely share. I consider my thoughts and ideas to rank as a distant second to complete silence, and I wanted to break that pattern of thinking while also improving a skill I've often thought I could excel at. In addition, this was to be a place for my grief to find release. I could place here, for any who cared to read, a depth of emotion and sadness that I never fathomed I would feel.