The Final "Normal" Day
Six years ago tonight, I went to sleep knowing my children were safe. Six years ago tonight was my final night of normal, of breathing deeply without pause, of sleeping without wishing for more. I had no way of knowing any of this at the time, of course; nonetheless, my life has taken on a new sense of normal in six years time.
Tomorrow marks the sixth year without my son's smile to greet me. Now, it is only in my dreams, memories and pictures that I glimpse his shining brown eyes and light up the room smile. It is still too much for me to watch my videos, delve into the scenes of my young, chubby faced son, hear his giggles and see him teasing his sister, my daughter, who misses him as close to my loss as anyone else can come.
For a number of reasons, or perhaps for no reason at all, this year has seemed harder than others without my Robbie. They are all hard, heartbreaking, terrible to bear...yet, the past six weeks have wrung me dry, twisted in new ways, leaving me bereft and broken anew.
Tonight, I purposefully attended a Yin/meditation session. New place. New people. "Throw yourself in, let go completely, and find your center." I know. My husband gave me 'the look' when I told him my plans. Charging through my turmoil and fears, I went to Ardha Moon Yoga and let myself fall, and breathe, and weep. My muscles stretched and my heart expanded.
As the instructor knelt at my head, scented oils on her fingers, rubbing my forehead and aiding my release, I knew it was the right path. There is no hiding from this grief. There is only forgiving myself for fearing another year, another day, another breath in a world without Robbie.
So, tonight I go to sleep knowing what tomorrow holds, facing one more day, and hoping that he will visit my dreams, bring me peace, and let me know in some way that he is still watching over me.
Tomorrow marks the sixth year without my son's smile to greet me. Now, it is only in my dreams, memories and pictures that I glimpse his shining brown eyes and light up the room smile. It is still too much for me to watch my videos, delve into the scenes of my young, chubby faced son, hear his giggles and see him teasing his sister, my daughter, who misses him as close to my loss as anyone else can come.
For a number of reasons, or perhaps for no reason at all, this year has seemed harder than others without my Robbie. They are all hard, heartbreaking, terrible to bear...yet, the past six weeks have wrung me dry, twisted in new ways, leaving me bereft and broken anew.
Tonight, I purposefully attended a Yin/meditation session. New place. New people. "Throw yourself in, let go completely, and find your center." I know. My husband gave me 'the look' when I told him my plans. Charging through my turmoil and fears, I went to Ardha Moon Yoga and let myself fall, and breathe, and weep. My muscles stretched and my heart expanded.
As the instructor knelt at my head, scented oils on her fingers, rubbing my forehead and aiding my release, I knew it was the right path. There is no hiding from this grief. There is only forgiving myself for fearing another year, another day, another breath in a world without Robbie.
So, tonight I go to sleep knowing what tomorrow holds, facing one more day, and hoping that he will visit my dreams, bring me peace, and let me know in some way that he is still watching over me.
Sweet dreams...
I'm so sorry Kristine...Zach still has a very hard time about his passing too...he will call me crying telling me he misses Robbie so much ...grieving can be terrible at times ...I hope you will continue to find peace and be able to enjoy the reflection Robbie had on all of us ...RIP Robbie Stevens
ReplyDeleteBig hugs to you. I pray that your memories of Robbie will help to comfort you. You are an amazing person who has made a huge impact on my daughter Rachel. She loves you to pieces. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
ReplyDeleteMy daughter Courtney still struggles with this. He was a great friend and they had plans together the next day. I still remember the moment she pounded my bedroom door screaming then sobbing literally going out of her mind. She didnt know what to think or feel. She didnt know what to say and I couldn't make sense of what she was saying. All I could do was hold her. Through help from the Catholic Church and time with friends and a memory book I slowly seen her "come back", but not the same. To this day when the lights flicker or something unusual happens she'll say "hi Robbie". He still "visits" her occasionally and although she will always miss him she knows in some way he is still here.
DeleteHoping this reply 'sticks' as I've tried a couple times and something goes crazy (Stop it Robbie!).
DeleteEach time a hawk swoops low over my car as I drive, finds the perfect resting spot in the branches above me when I'm out riding my horse, and perches on a fence post across from my porch, "Hey, Robbie," is the only response as I smile. With an open heart and love, I take every reminder my son sends me, letting me know he is always with me, even though not in the manner of my choice.
Thank you for sharing your story. Year seven hasn't been any easier than six, but hearing from others who love and miss my boy definitely helps me.
Love and Peace
I feel your heart! Please keep talking & writing! In July it will be 23 years without my son and my new normal began as he died at the age of 23 in a car accident. He was a 1988 Mason grad. It really boggles my brain to accept/believe he will be gone for as long as he was alive. I just can't grasp it yet! God bless you as our grief unites us!
ReplyDeleteDebbie Hart
Hugs to you, Kristine. Thinking of you and Robbie today, and always.
ReplyDeleteKaren
I can promise you that we will never forget him. He was a big part of Courtneys peer group. He meant a lot to her. He meant a lot to so many people. I know in the beginning she went through the "what if" stage. He wanted to hang out that day but we had some family thing at Rainer Park so her plans moved to later or the next day....then the dreaded message that changed her life. She had to grow up quickly. Her first loss. Hard at any age to handle. My grandchildren asked why we always say hi to Robbie...Who is this Robbie? Even though they never had a chance to meet him they will often times say it. Courtney will always miss him. Hugs to you.
ReplyDelete