"Festivus for the rest of us!"

A comforting book arrived last weekend courtesy of the organ donor, ahhh organization. (I forgot the name.) Great suggestions for living the holidays, for the first time, without our son and brother. We have received a number of books courtesy of the organ donor people and they are all helpful.

Of the dozen suggestions, I was particularly fond of the ones that made me acknowledge that every holiday was not exactly a Hallmark event, and it's OK to consider starting new traditions.

The same as every family, our Christmas traditions range from events of fun and jolly to those which trigger stress and exhaustion; physically and mentally. In Aaron's 17 Christmas' I believe we were in our home, opening presents around our tree maybe three Christmas days. When the choice was spend Christmas in our home with the four of us or enjoy several days with family in the northwoods, we chose the travel, friends and family away from home. As young boys they were a challenge to organize and motivate: "How will Santa know where to deliver our presents? (and, how do we hide Santa's presents in the car?) As bigger boys the challenges were...bigger: "My friends are all here. Why do I have to go? You and Mom can go, Patrick and I will stay here."

Of course, regardless of their age and objections, the boys always remarked on how good it was to be with family over Christmas or other holidays. I even recall Aaron saying on the last Christmas when we went home to Antigo, in 2002: "That was a good Christmas. I'm glad we went. Holidays are for family."

Holidays are for family. This Christmas season we will focus more on Christ, compassion to others, healing and sharing. Some of my past holiday traditions, which might more resemble Frank Castanza's "Feats of strength, and airing of grievances," will easily be put away forever. This year I will help select and decorate the tree. In recent years, I was more likely to go shopping for a Festivus pole.

It's made of aluminum. Very High Strength-to-weight ratio. Frank Castanza

Getting Through the Holidays

Yet we have gone on living,

Living and partly living.

T.S. Eliot

Everyone comes home for the holidays. If not Thanksgiving, surely Christmas.

Cathy and I started to prepare the Thanksgiving meal around 7:30 AM. None of the recipes called for large measures of tears and hugs but each dish got more than its share. When we finished and all dishes were cooking or waiting their turn, we rested. Patrick slept in. Giving in to the body's call for rest is good. Grief/mourning wears a person down. The holiday flood of emotions began before Thursday this past week. I wouldn't call it a struggle, because we aren't fighting the emotions. No good comes from fighting a foe you can't beat and emotions, a gift from God are all good to experience.

The opening of our front door and the door from the garage have distinct sounds. Almost seven months into this journey, the opening of one of those doors triggers a twinge of hope that Aaron will walk in with his non-chalant "Hey" announcing his presence. It's not going to happen...ever. Maybe its more a trigger of a memory. Maybe its a little of each. The feeling is real; a surge of energy.

Of course its illogical to have any thoughts that Aaron will return. The fact that he is dead is confusing. The notion that Aaron could come home or, we wake up from this nightmare... the world starts spinning again... God apologizes....anything feels as possible as what we are to accept as reality. A person named Charlotte Bronte is quoted as saying "Better to be without logic than without feeling." We feel the death of our son and brother in everything we do and see. Our feelings are intense as every nerve is exposed.

The next four weeks present us with an opportunity to experience Christmas in a way too many families will this year. We know thousands of American families have lost children since last Christmas. Some to accidents, war, illness, murder... For all of these families the feelings will be deep and disturbing. We won't try to escape the Holiday season, but we will likely put aside some old traditions (traditions we spent 18 years establishing with our boys). This season we will begin new traditions which include Aaron as he is today; a son gone too young, a brother gone too far.

William Wordsworth wrote "A deep distress has humanized my soul".

In Agreement,

Tom

Learning What it Means to Be a Man...A Buffalo Soldier and A Ring of Fire

Intervention, Mount Bachelor Academy, April 2004.

We all learn what work we have to do to change our situation. We can run, hide, fall down, object...or we can face our fears, our selves with honesty and go to work. Aaron did his work and learned to be a man. He learned to find the soul of people whom he knew of only their dark side.

Bob Marley and Johnny Cash became more than music, bud, drugs and selfish icons. From these men, Aaron learned to listen for their souls in their music. Aaron was awakened to the growth of fellow strugglers. Aloneness can be a dibilitating state of mind. Knowing hope existed on the trail of tenderness to self and others, Aaron found mental strength to go with his physical strength.

I will forever cherish this look. The Aaron stories from this intervention gave us sincere comfort during his days away. We knew he was coming home someday. What he came home with was more maturity and wisdom than we could have ever dreamed.

The candle burned bright and died too soon.

God bless you Son.

Dad

Thanksgiving

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...

We've discovered we have too few photos of Aaron from 2005. Above is a photo of Aaron throwing frisbee at Mount Bachelor Academy sometime in late 2004. It reminds me of the last day I saw Aaron, May 8, 2005. We threw the frisbee in our yard and briefly considered going to play frisbee golf. Being Mother's Day and a little chilly, we concluded the frisbee golf could be played another day. There was never another day.

The other photo is from May-June of 2004 on a wilderness retreat in the Idaho desert. A funny story we heard from his group leader had to do with the group selecting Aaron to be their navigator:

Aaron had just arrived and the group had formed bonds from their days together. A student had left the group so Aaron was filling an opening. The groups mission included a couple hundred mile hike through unmarked country from one post to another. The position of navigator was one each student desired for some reason. The group leader nominated Aaron for the prestigious post. After some discussion, the group agreed. A fellow group member said to Aaron, "OK, the good news is you're the navigator. The bad news is we lost the compass."

The next 40 days gave Aaron tremendous understandings on being a man, flexibility, nature and his place in nature, trust, compassion, and of course navigation. Aaron learned to make a fire without matches and I never had him show me how he did it. I guess there was to be more time for these things. What I did see was maturity, confidence, and virtue.

Today Cathy and I heard two wonderful memory shares about Aaron from adults who knew him. Those are precious gifts to us. As much as you think you will remember everything about your children, you don't. And, some of the best memories are ones other people have and give to us. If you have an Aaron story you'd like to share please send it. I know I feel starved for his personality. When I hear a story about Aaron I can see him. They sometimes spark a memory of my own.

This Thanksgiving we are thankful for God's mercy. We thank God for two wonderful sons, Aaron and Patrick, and say thanks for all the people who touch their lives.

Peace,

Tom