Happy Birthday Mo.
It’s been an absolutely insane past few months.
I’ve been working so hard on the “list” of things you wanted me to do for you.
I’ve still got a few of those things that I’m working on. I feel your hand guiding me towards those things every day. Or at least I like to think that that’s the case because some of these “coincedences” that have been happening the past year are just too much to believe are just random occurences.
I’ve been thinking a lot about our last conversations and I think now I really and truly understand what you were telling me.
You know me. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out things if they are just bluntly put in front of me…or I’ll go with the “worst case scenario” (as you know I tend to do) and get sidetracked going down a rabbit hole of emotions.
Things are much clearer now with this time that has passed. The fog of grief has lifted somewhat. I feel your hand in that too.
You came to me a while back. One of the very few times you’ve visited me. I was driving you in the car. Your hair was that shade of “perfect” burgundy you’d always try to get.
“1 out of 3 times it is perfect”.
We were making small talk. Nothing really coherent but the feeling was “Us”. Our conversations and our chatter back and forth. There wasn’t a sense of rush or even time going by at all. I wasn’t worried about the destination. We were just talking and together.
Some time passed (even though it seemed like it went on forever…in a good way).
You got out of the car. Leaned down in the window and said
“Thank you for getting me here.”
Your smile reassured me that everything was ok. You were happy. You were radiant. Then you said…
“Don’t rush. We’ll see you later. I promise.”
I didn’t understand what you meant by “we”. For the first time I realized we were at some sort of “station”. A giant building with things coming and going. I say things because they were immersed in this bright light.
You turned around and started to walk away…as you got further you were immersed in this light. And then I realized that just past you…Kristen was there looking back at me. She gave me a wave and a smile and I could barely make out “I love you bro”.
There wasn’t any sadness from you walking away. It was more a sense of relief.
The “list” you gave me. I think I get it now. I get that you were making me focus on the things you knew was going to trip me up after you were gone.
You were giving me these tasks…so that I could take them head on and through taking them on. You knew if I didn’t have direction and a motivation I’d wallow. You gave me the direction through the tasks and the motivation through the promise. I don’t break those.
There’s one item that I think I’m getting closer to completing and making progress on. And it’s a big one…it’s the one that says…
“LIVE. Don’t stop your life. Don’t stop being you. Don’t stop being a father. Do the things you love. The things that made me love you. You can’t stop doing that. I’m not going to be here. You will be. Don’t stop living because I’m gone. Keep living because I am. The worst thing you could do would be to let this thing take both of us and our daugther”
There are more words. But those are for just you and I.
You ARE here. You are guiding me towards this new life I’ve been trying to build. One that lives up to the promise. It’s been incredibly hard, but things are changing. I’m finding ways to move forward and make you proud.
There have been false starts along the way. More loss to process.
But there are so many big things happening.
Thank you for giving me the gift of realizing just how precious time is.
Thank you for giving me the gift of understanding how we need to let our walls down with those we love…and let them know just how we feel.
Because we have no idea when we’re not going to be here anymore. There’s no time to waste.”
So for your birthday. I hope you can…wherever you are…have the gift of you knowing that I’m getting there.
We love you. We are grateful for you. Keep guiding us. We will keep following the path.
Happy birthday Mo. We miss you so much.