Jumping out of a plane? Jumping out of a plane!

The week coming up will no doubt be a difficult one for several reasons.  I know Addi’s birthday will always be the hardest day to face the loss of Evan (which is in October), but last year it had been so soon after he passed that I was still numb and in shock.  That is how I have spent the better part of the last eleven months.

Slowly, I have been coming out of this numbness a little and feeling like me again; I am connecting with Addi daily and that is everything.  I have a job and am finishing up my masters degree.  Although I am staying busy and on a path I was on before Evan got sick it is this heavy reminder that now, still on that path, but it is emptier because I am on it without him.

Our birthdays are coming up.  Sunday and Thursday.  We tried to do something on each day, an activity, creating a new memory, and would go out on the 4th to eat.  Last year Evan and I discussed the possibility of going sky diving.  He talked about going several times and had me talked into it, but last year when we discussed it he let me bail out saying we would do it when we turned thirty.  I remember crying to the neurosurgeon that told me Evan wouldn’t be coming home that he didn’t get to go sky diving.  He had let me talk him into delaying it; he let me think we had more time, he let himself think that.

How much do we put off thinking we have more time?  Why do we do that?  It just creates regret in a new way.  Regret that something is left undone or unsaid.  I don’t want to live like that and I sure as hell don’t want Addi or the ones I care about to live like that because tomorrow is not guaranteed.  I don’t want to put off living.  I have to embrace it because Evan isn’t able to.  He doesn’t get that chance or that option anymore and it hurts, and I have to do something about it.

I wanted to skydive on his birthday, but it is on a Thursday and everyone is working and I want Addi to see me do it.  I suppose the day it is on doesn’t matter so much as that I do it.  That I take that jump, literally; that I feel that I followed through on another thing I promised we would do.  I just wish he was here to go with me

Worth It

Eight months. Six hours. Two minutes. It’s hard to wrap my mind around everything, around anything. I am trying to be present, but I feel so disconnected…

Addi and I just got back from seeing our family and friends in Maine—those we obtained thanks to Evan. I was talking with someone that was close to Evan about the last few months, the almost year, and I couldn’t believe how distant I felt from my own memories. I have been pushing myself and my moments aside in some ways because I don’t want to lose stories about Evan. I don’t want to lose those memories so it is almost like I am blocking other things from entering my memory bank. I am living in the moment, trying to enjoy every second I have with Addi, but when I look back on last week, last month…I just don’t feel like I was actually apart of any it in some ways.

I’m thinking about Addi and I’s trip to Maine: we just got back yesterday. We stayed for a week. I drove us up the coast and back down. We had a blast. I know it. I can give examples and explain why we had fun and what we did, but at the same time I don’t feel it. I don’t feel like I was there fully…reflecting on it, keeping record is all I can do right now I suppose…

So, I decided spur of the moment to take Addi to Maine. We haven’t seen Ev’s mom or brother since September, just after Evan passed.  I knew it was going to be hard but I felt that the timing was right—I just finished my spring grad courses and I was about to pick up more hours at my part-time job, but before I did I wanted to see more people that were connected to Evan.  I didn’t want there to be any pressure for planning Evan’s celebration of life or anything of that sort, just a visit.  I am not too familiar with Maine and I wanted to get more of a feel for it before I figured out where to host the celebration. I wanted to hear stories about Evan that I didn’t know or couldn’t recall and I wanted to reminisce with his old friends. It was a success. It was hard too, but that’s a daily struggle. It was worth it. Addi and I made new memories and I was able to tell her about places and things Evan and I did when we had come up to Maine. His mom and friends got to tell both of us lots of stories from when he was younger.

I want to have his celebration of life on his birthday because that’s what you do on your birthday—you celebrate. I don’t want to be at home upset because he isn’t here. I want to embrace his/our family and share stories. I want to celebrate the life he had, not mourn the life he was deprived of. Again, something I struggle with everyday. This August I am going to take Addi to Washington to celebrate Evan’s life with the friends and family we have there. It will be hard, as all of this is and has been and will continue to be, but it will be worth it.

I will eventually post about the actual trip to Maine and maybe even some pictures, but for now I just wanted to throw out there that Addi and I’s next trip will be to Washington in early August.

Hugging Meditation

Today was Evan’s birthday.  We had a nice, relaxing day filled with ice cream cake, steaks on the grill and lots of love (cue the picture reel).  I know I just posted about the need to be strong and be happy and savor every moment, but sometimes it is bittersweet, especially when there are scary health terms floating around there like cancer and grade four. 

It is easy to get overwhelmed thinking about these health issues, but it is inevitable when birthdays, anniversaries and holidays come up.  I felt myself feeling down and worried and scared for the future and what may or may not be.  On the verge of tears, not knowing what to say to Evan since it was late last night, I remembered a mantra, if you will, that I came across not too long ago on a friend’s facebook.  It’s a hugging meditation that I find works surprisingly well, if you can remember to do it when you get lost in thought and have someone to hug…and according to the site I found to link below, you don’t have to hug a person, but maybe just think of them…so when doing this meditation:

“Holding each other for three in-and-out breaths. With the first breath, we are aware that we are present in this very moment and we are happy. With the second breath, we are aware that the other is present in this moment and we are happy as well. With the third breath, we are aware that we are here together, right now on this earth, and we feel deep gratitude and happiness for our togetherness.

In the original post I read from my friend, on one of the breaths you picture yourself with the person you are hugging 300 years in the future.  This was a nice adjustment because it makes me forget about just today, but where we will be in the next life.  When doing the 300 year projection I always share what I pictured with the person I hugged.  Evan pictured us owning a flying car company last night and I envisioned us flying on eagles.  I know trippy, but it helps me think of other things, of crazy possibilities, but the bottom line is it reminds me that I need to be happy that I have Evan right now.  Today.  And he has me.  And we have Addison. 

If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, or want to meditate in a non-traditional way, just try it.  You might find it is something that helps you, as it does me.