Making Sense

I'm sitting in a Panera with a blank computer screen up. Ten... twenty... thirty minutes have gone by since I opened my torts casebook. The playlist on my iPod looped four times before I noticed.

I can't make sense of the last month, and that lack of sense pervades into most of the things I try to do. I end up staring. Then shaking my head and getting back to work only to stare again. Some days that's all there is- blank-eyed stares. Other days it's not so bad.

That's the funny thing about grief. It's like having a leech on your back sucking out your energy, mostly without you knowing. Maybe you're fine, maybe you're just used to being drained. Then sometimes you laugh and you believe that you're finally alright again, only to be right back to where you started five minutes later. Like I said, I can't make sense of it.

Because I see things in black and white, I struggle with this. I just want to crawl into bed. I don't want to be in a gray area, in a kind of limbo where life is back to normal but it's not back to normal at all. I want every day to be the same, for better or worse, so I can figure out where I am. But it doesn't work like that.

You take one day at a time. One hour at a time, even. Like my dad says- do one thing at a time, and do it right. It's all you can do.

The Important Thing

What my sister and I read at Jon's services...

In times of seemingly insurmountable grief, we seek, more than anything, understanding. We look endlessly for answers. We ache to be “okay,” but we also fight it, never wanting to be “okay” with a loss so great that it shakes us to our very core.

When Jon was born, Sara and I jumped on our bed chanting, “We’re getting a brother! We’re getting a brother!” From that day on, our lives and the lives of those around us have never been the same. We all got a brother that day and we sit here now with hearts that are heavy and soaked with sorrow.

The love we have for Jon fills this room, along with the memories he has forever imprinted in our minds. We cannot find the words to express how overwhelming this feeling of love is, so we look to the words of another to explain.

From the children’s book by Margaret Wise Brown, The Important Book

The important thing about the rain is that it is wet. It falls out of the sky, and it sounds like rain, and makes things shiny, and it does not taste like anything, and is the color of air. But the important thing about the rain is that it is wet.

The important thing about snow is that it is white. It is cold, and light, and falls softly out of the sky. It is bright, and the shape of tiny stars and crystals. It is always cold. And it melts. But the important thing about snow is that it is white.

The important thing about the sky is that it is always there. It is true that it is blue, and high, and full of clouds, and made of air. But the important thing about the sky is that it is always there.

The important thing about you is that you are you. It is true that you were a baby, and you grew, and now you are a child, and you will grow into a man. But the important thing about you is that you are you.

Jon, Jean, Jan, Jake, JB, Jon-Jon, and Goobs-

It is true that you were once a baby, and you grew into a man. Your eyes were blue and you had the most beautiful smile we’ve ever seen.

You were a phenomenal athlete. You were in the goal when history was made, and were a national champion. But none of that came easily. Whether it was five-hour road trips for one-on-one lessons with the Goalie Man or 21 credit hours completed in one summer, you worked hard for everything you accomplished. You approached these accomplishments with a humility that very few people possess.

You were selfless and loyal and gave to others with compassion and without hesitation. You treated every friend like your best friend and the way you treated family is the way everyone should treat family.

You brought Sara and I pizza at 3’o’clock in the morning, installed “surround sound” in the back room for Pa, and somehow managed to get Mom wherever she was going safely even when you were “Textin’ and drivin’, makin’ Ma mad!”

You were a neighbor, a friend, a teammate, a cousin, a brother, a son, and now, you are an angel. But the most important thing about you is that you are you, and you will always be you to us.

We love you, and you will forever hold a special place in our hearts. You are watching over us all now, and there is no one we would rather have looking after and protecting us.