Monday, December 30, 2013

Wind Songs

HEY!  What are YOU doin'?
He always answered his phone the same way when I called him.

I always smiled at the sound of his voice, and always answered his greeting the same way
Talkin' to YOU!  What are YOU doin'?

I'm at a baseball game.
Oh yeah.  Where?
Tullahoma.
Tullahoma??  Are you working it or just attending it?
Working.  I wouldn't come to Tullahoma just to watch a game.
Why didn't you TELL me?  I woulda come over to see you.
I dunno.
You wanna call me back later when you're not working?
No it's OK.  The game hasn't started yet.
Well........we're in Manchester right now.  LC's in a pawn shop lookin' at guns so I thought I'd give you a call and see if you got my email.

Hesitation before he spoke.
Hesitation as he began to speak and as he continued to speak.................

Sean had gotten my email and he was sorry that he hadn't responded but he just didn't know what to say.
He understood that Tullahoma was getting rougher all the time.  He knew that we didn't like all the people that were in Tennessee and that we missed Wyoming.
He understood if we wanted to retire in Wyoming.
They would miss us.  And wouldn't be able to see us as often.  They'd really like it if we could stay in Tennessee until after the baby was born.  Maybe we could put our house up for sale and stay with him and Jessica until after the baby came?

I dunno Babe.
Let me give it some more thought. 
I better go.  Get back to work ya lousy bum!
In my mind I could see the smile on his face and I could hear it in his voice as well when he replied.
Alright.
 I'll give you a call in a couple of days, OK?
OK.
I love you Baby.
I love you too mom..............

There had been a handful of times over the years when I had a decision to make, and I found myself (for prolonged periods of time) bouncing back and forth, unable to make that decision.
Floating seemingly unendingly in that awful, stomach-churning, frustrating, no-mans-land of indecision.
Without Sean ever knowing it, there had been a couple of times in his life where he had been the catalyst for a decision.
When he had unwittingly provided that one moment of clarity that suddenly pulled all the pieces of a puzzle into place.  
And when that happened - suddenly - magically - the picture was all there laying in front of me, and the decision ended up making itself.
One single look.  One single sentence.  One single moment of hesitation is all that it took............

When I asked Sean if he had received my email he hesitated.  We'd miss you.  We wouldn't see you as often as we do now.  We'd like it if you could stay until after the baby arrived.  
I listened carefully to my child talking on the phone, and even as I hung up the phone I knew that I would have to greatly disappoint LC.
I didn't like all the people in Tennessee or the high crime or the sagging pants or the drug deals we saw go down at the "Maggot Market" (our nickname for the small local grocery store that was located only a couple of blocks from the house) or any of the other places we had watched drug deals go down.
I didn't like any of those things and I missed so many things about Wyoming.
But I couldn't leave.
I couldn't leave Sean.  Not again.
Only..........two days later he was dead.
He died never knowing that I was going to stay.
He died thinking that there was a good chance that I would leave him....................

******************

Sean was born on December 30, 1983 at 3:06 in the afternoon.
It was a Friday and it was snowing and he was ten days late.
He weighed 7 lbs 6 oz, and he was 27 1/2 inches long.
He had long arms and long legs and a long body and a warped shaped head and a splotchy face, and I thought that he looked like ET.
And I thought that he was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen in my life.......................

*******************

Sean's son is now 14 months old.
His son was given both Sean's first and middle names.
I can't stand to call my grandson (who I have never met) by my sons' name.
They will never know each other....................

*******************

A few months after we moved back to Tennessee Sean invited us to a football game that he was working in Winchester (a small town 30 minutes from where we lived).
I posted this blog post after going to the game:
At the end of that blog post I cut and pasted a quote that reminded me so very much of my boy.
It was a quote by a woman named Julie Perkins Centrell.  I found the quote (as I do with so many that I post on this blog) purely by accident, and always loved it.

He has the spirit of the sun, the moods of the moon, and the will of the wind

When LC and I moved from Wyoming to Idaho, I ruminated that I needed to change the name of this blog again.
Over the course of only three years this blog has been named Living the Juneau Adventure, Wyoming Wind Songs, A Tennessee Life and Wyoming Wind Songs again.
Just one small sign of the ridiculously unsettled life that we have led over the past three years.
On the day of my Blog-Name-Ruminations I speculated that it would be much easier if I finally just named the blog something that doesn't indicated a specific place.
And then it hit me.
He has the spirit of the sun, the moods of the moon, and the will of the wind.
Today I will rename the blog one more time.
It will just be called Wind Songs.
And inside my fractured, ruined head I will sing the name to Sean, because the name is dedicated to him..................

********************

Sean would have been 30 years old today.
A video that I used to love because it always reminded me of the love I felt for my boys.
I loved this song.
No matter what I was doing over the years (over the lifetime I shared with my boys), whenever this song came on the radio I would stop for a few minutes, listen and picture my life with my sweet sons.
Now I can't stand to listen to it:

***************************

Somebody I have come to know a little, recently read the story I wrote about Sean back in August of last year.
It seems like that was written so very long ago.
An entire life time ago.
They say that time heals all wounds, and I think that I always believed that, but I don't anymore.
I only have two things left of my son:
1.  The love and good memories of our lives together.
2.  The pain and the grief of his death, and the emptiness of my life now without him.
I don't want to lose either one of those pieces of him.
Both the love and the pain keep me connected to my child, and I continue to embrace both.
I can't wrap my head around Sean being gone, and as I continue to count weeks and months since my beautiful son died, it is almost as though I am counting down the weeks and months until the time I will see him again.
I can't wrap my head around the fact that he will never be coming back.
I will never hear his voice again.  Never see his smile.  Never hear his laugh.  Never watch him shooting baskets.  Never touch his face.  Kiss him on the cheek.  Wrap my arms around his neck.
Not ever again. 
I will never know what he could have done with his life if only he had had a chance to LIVE his life.............

***************************

That's him.
The one with the Gatorade bottle.
I haven't looked at this picture since the day I pulled it off the wall.
One of the schools that Sean worked with was holding a fund raiser for Jessica and the baby.
Sean had been dead for two weeks, and I stayed long enough to make an appearance before making a fast and very shaky escape, because I couldn't stand it anymore.
On the way out the door I angrily pulled this picture off the wall.
Today is the first day I have looked at it in 20 months.
It will be the last time for a while.
I loved him so much.
I miss him so much.................

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