Moms Columns & Blogs

Brian's Marker

blog post photo

Brittle…like the stem of a wineglass, set down in haste… A little off center, placed at an odd angle…no warning, a sharp crack fractures the whole.  It takes very little to break us these days...  

I’m not sure why the sadness is overwhelming us right now; it feels like we’ve donned cloaks of granite: heavy, dark and cold.  Maybe it’s the cumulative effect of the long winter months; whatever the reason, my heart hurts as much now as it did in the beginning.  Perhaps it’s because the world we live in today is not remotely similar to the Mayberry in my mind; that beautiful naiveté and innocence is no longer a possibility for me.  Maintaining a glimmer of hope and optimism while coping with Brian’s loss exhausts my meager resources; add the barrage of tragic situations headlining the news and the corresponding ‘spin’ toward the worst view of things, and you end up where I am…weary and worn-out…trying to shake it off…wondering how to make it happen…  

It has been 35 weeks since the accident; I wonder, when will I start counting in months instead of weeks? 

I decided to get out of the house, thinking the change would help my psyche.  I drove out to Forest Lawn to visit Brian and leave flowers.  I got a surprise…at long last, his marker had been placed.  Finally.  Almost two months after we ordered it.  Only his vase was nowhere to be found.  They were supposed to call us when it was installed…  Another surreal moment, wholly unexpected.  It took my breath away, seeing his name there…  I alternately sobbed and wept; someone brought an azalea with valentine hearts sticking out; there were a dozen golf balls lining the lower edge.  I left, feeling sick and nauseated.  While I am glad Brian is no longer ‘unknown’, this is one more detail, finalized.  Undeniable confirmation that this horrible nightmare is real.  

I keep reminding myself we are all the sum of our experiences, and the difficulties I faced earlier in my life helped prepare me for this place and time.  Only I don’t feel prepared.  I simply cannot believe he is gone.  That so much time has passed; it feels like minutes ago, and we’ve a lifetime yet to face…  

When exactly does weeping in the night yield to joy in the morning?  Maybe it’s time to re-think my concept of ‘time’…  

Wishing you blessings and hope…tg  

Tammy will update her blog on Mondays and Thursdays.  -- Jen, site administrator  

  Comments