I admit it – I still have a wall calendar hanging on the wall in my kitchen and over my writing desk. And yes, I still write appointments, birthdays and special dates on them. I find that it helps to keep track of everyone’s schedule if they write them out for all to see. Then I have to remember to transfer the dates to my electronic calendar. I’m still working on that.
I find the open calendar is really helpful for anything that will need a card sent, a birthday, graduation or other event that requires the purchase of a card a few days ahead of time. Yet, even then, I am often late at sending out that card.
But there is one date that I do not write on the calendar. That day has been burnt into my memories and it would be far too painful to see it in writing. It’s the day that my first born son left us after a short, nearly nine months on this earth. It’s a day that creeps up on me each year and always catches me by surprise. I will start to feel edgy and off balance by mid August and never realize why until I look at that empty square on the calendar and then… I remember. A quiet morning at the park, then he needed a nap. He woke struggling to breathe. His damaged heart was failing and his time with us was at an end.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts that are swirling in my brain. So many images that are both dear and heartbreaking.
I walk out to my garden. I have always grown sunflowers each summer to honor my father. He had an amazing green thumb and was very proud of the extra- large sunflowers that he would grow. I have never been able to grow those large ones but this year I have a mass of smaller multicolor blooms that he would have loved to see. Strangely, I can’t remember if I had managed to grow any sunflowers the summer we lost Troy, but something about this year’s garden is reminding me of him. Beautiful cheery flowers that are telling me to stop being so maudlin. He is free of all his physical ailments, no more surgeries looming in his future. He is running through a field of sunflowers in God’s gardens and laughing. I soak in the colors and feel a smile start somewhere deep inside, working it’s way to my face.
I have always tried to be encouraging in this blog and I apologize for the somber tone of this entry. The anniversary of his death is still a few days off. Each year I work through fresh grief. For now, I will let the memories run free in my head and comfort my heart as time continues to slip by. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. Thanks to God for letting me get to know him. One day my beautiful boy…one day.
LIttle Troy – Summer of ’97
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