On Mourning

Friends:

You may feel you started something unpleasant if I cry when we talk about Aaron. I sincerely assure you that is not the case. Crying is part, maybe the most important part, of being strong enough to go through the grief. There is no way around it. I will cry many tears for many years learning to live with the loss of my son.

Be comfortable knowing I want to...no, need to, talk about Aaron. I need to cry and I am grateful to those who allow me to cry and continue to share memories of Aaron. This mourning process dominates my life and that is the way it should be. There is good grieving and harmful grieving. I've done the harmful one when I was a teenager. I've paid high prices to learn the lesson too well. I won't make that mistake twice.

I know it would be good for things to be different. But we all know life is not the same. It's far from normal. Heck, I don't have a recall of the feelings associated with "normal". With that said, we do our best to do normal things like work, play, laugh. They're hallow experiences. Without our Aaron, our family is far from complete. Days are just not what they used to be and what they are is not what you and I are accustomed to.

In order to grow, I have to live the pain. The pain brings emotion. The emotion releases tears. The tears heal; if not for long for a little while. A little while is a huge relief. We savor the periods of relief.

There is a deep understanding among Cathy and myself that our lives have been catapulted into another dimension. We know, as it has been said by people of more import than us, we will surely laugh again; we will just never be young again.

At five months into this process, I feel older than I am, yet I know I don't want to be young again.

Good night. Peace.

Tom