A Gallery of Thoughts, Pictures, and Memories

Maybe it is just a process… You know, like life is just a process? Reflection pools…

Yeah, of course… it’s the memories…

This was the second Christmas... Good to try to improve the first one...
This was the second Christmas… Good to try to improve the first one…

It seems like such a long time ago – and I was… This was representative of hope – I actually have an old VHS of this day – and it snowed, too… which was interesting, because it doesn’t snow that much where we live, in Texas…

Rob was just over a year old.  I have some other pictures of him – walking and running around like a Wildman that he was – of course a total contrast from 1987, when just a month old he was recovering from surgery and just out of the neo-natal ICU… We weren’t sure of much at the time… not at all.  Scary.  But 1988 was a turnaround improvement.  We thought he actually might stay awhile… And he did.  Almost 18 years total – but we never knew.  Every cold, every sniffle brought some potential for a tumble down.

We learned to go to battle each time, getting better as we learned, only to know how much we had yet to learn, each time.  The vastness of the giant battle against an enemy that can take many forms.  Christmas was always the hopeful time, no matter what.  We made it that way.

Rob, as he grew up, always was feisty and sometimes people did not suspect anything – in fact, as he got older, he preferred that people not know… for him, it was better that way, day to day.

At 1988, Rob moved into “live it to the fullest” mode and never looked back…ever.  This is why Christmas time did represent so much hope to us…

Looking out... Observing and exploring...
Looking out… Observing and exploring…

Now, I have to re-learn how to regard Christmas.  The first year was unbelievably tough.  With every year, it has morphed and the character of my grieving has changed.  It still is preferred to just be low key, but I feel that I am more of an observer, just going through motions.  No, it doesn’t help having friends there while I attempt to decorate the tree – nah.  Not when it took me three martini’s per session the last time I did this, and it took me several “sessions” to “git ‘er done”…  And then, there is the “dismantling”… oh my God in Heaven, please deliver me from having to go through THAT.  I’d rather not.

So, what to do?  Escape?  Doesn’t really solve the problem, now, does it?  I guess that I will continue to slog through it one year at a time, hoping for hope, hoping that each year I will change my feelings and lift myself up.  One thing is for sure, nobody else can do this for me…  I must do this myself.

Maybe this will be the year.  Hope floats.

Up in the air