Anniversaries are a pretty big deal. And there are hallmark anniversaries, such as a 20 year mark, and we celebrate them with great joy.
But then there are days like today. This is the 20th anniversary of the death of my older son, James. And all I have are memories, and the loss of what could have been.
Grief is a peculiar thing. It hits you when you least expect it. And it’s interesting the reaction I get when I mention my pain. After all, it has been a long time. And people think I should be over it.
But how does one get over the loss of a child? You might as well have cut out my heart. In fact, that’s exactly what happened. And I am still picking up the pieces.
I do have my memories, however. And no one can take them away from me.
So, indulge me while I reminisce.
James was all about boyscouts and basketball. And music and track and debate. He played the french horn and would run anywhere from 10 to 20 miles per day when he was a long-distance runner for his high school track team. He was also on the debate team. I still have his trophies, and his french horn mouthpiece. When I touch it to my lips, it’s almost like a kiss, for his lips touched it, too.
This photo was taken four and a half years before he died. He didn’t change much, except he was losing his hair. Poor kid.
He was only 21 when he died. I sometimes wonder what he might have become. He wanted to be an airline pilot. He loved the skies.
But now he flies higher than any plane could have taken him. He’s my angel. I’ve almost gotten used to it. Almost.
But I still miss you, James! And I will always love you.
What memories are you making with the ones you love today?
A Pocketful of Joy to Fill Your Day