About loss: it doesn’t ever go away. I suppose that’s its very definition, yes? Absence, emptiness, the void. All the opposite of presence, solidity. But the loss of a person isn’t true loss, because there are memories, objects, history, and this, I think, is why loss keeps going and never stops. An earring gone in a night out–well, that’s an earring you can pretty much chalk up as being gone forever. A person gone is both never gone and never there.
We sat in Evan’s room yesterday and told each other stories, to bring him closer despite his absence. We remembered his laugh and the way he wielded his cane and how Josie used to say hi to him at school when she saw him on the playground. We talked about how stubborn he was and how happy too, and when we had finished our stories and cried our tears we left his room and wandered the house.
Evan’s caregiver came on Friday to sit in his room and remember him as well. As she left, I said, “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want, something of his from his room?” and she said, “What I want I cannot have. The thing I want most in the world isn’t here.”
And that, my friends, is loss.
“A Walk With Evan,” done by a friend.
Comments 28
No words except to say I’m thinking of you and sending thoughts of love, remembrance, and peace.
I think Evan’s care giver summed it up for so many of us.
The painting is exquisite. Truly.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 7:58 am ¶Hugs my friend, hugs.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 8:22 am ¶Thinking of you. Thinking of Evan.
love, love.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 8:50 am ¶I’m so sorry. But yes, it is exactly as you describe. Wishing you peace and love, and comfort.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 8:52 am ¶I thought of you and of your family and of Evan earlier in the week. I thought about this upcoming yahrzeit. About the death of my father, for years I said both seriously and ironically, “it’s unrelenting, he’s still dead.” I am still so sorry for your loss and we are thinking of all of you here, far from your home. love to you. xo Laura
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 9:32 am ¶I am so profoundly sorry.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 12:55 pm ¶Once again, I wish I’d had the chance to meet your wonderful boy. Thinking of your family with affection, and with deep appreciation for all you are sharing with and teaching us.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 1:20 pm ¶Love and peace, as you you continue to navigate this world without your precious Evan.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 1:58 pm ¶” A person gone is both never gone and never there.”
I am so, so sorry. Been thinking about this hard anniversary…
love.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 2:30 pm ¶You’ve been very much on my mind this weekend. Many ((hugs)) to you.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 5:58 pm ¶Even though I know loss never goes away, it keeps managing to surprise me.
Thinking of you as you give this time to remembering Evan.
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 6:29 pm ¶Sending hugs as you remember your wonderful boy with those who knew and loved him too. xox
Posted 25 Jul 2010 at 11:00 pm ¶Though our own struggles, I sometimes forget there are people who have been down some of the same roads that I have. In my own absorption in our problems and victories, I don’t see the footprints in the dirt that have been left before. We’ve never been to your place, never met you in person.
I don’t think it matters. No matter what you’re doing, or where you are, remember, we think of you and Evan often.
Posted 26 Jul 2010 at 6:05 am ¶Big huge hug.
Posted 26 Jul 2010 at 6:08 am ¶That’s loss, but it’s also love.
Posted 26 Jul 2010 at 7:29 am ¶Tearing up and thinking of you and your family. You say so much in very few words.
Posted 26 Jul 2010 at 8:38 am ¶I’m most impressed with the caregiver words. More touching than anything that has been written about the loss of him so far.
Posted 26 Jul 2010 at 8:39 am ¶thinking of you all SO MUCH.
Posted 27 Jul 2010 at 11:14 am ¶Here is another thing about loss: If we all jump in the hole with you, the hole gets a little less huge.
Remember Fahrenheit 451? When everyone carried bits of books in their heads?
We, even those of us who never met him, carry Evan around with us–stories, that gorgeous painting, photos. I think of him every single time I get near a swingset.
Every time.
Posted 27 Jul 2010 at 5:37 pm ¶I’m thinking of you and your family with love, Vicki. Thank you for sharing this difficult time with us.
Posted 28 Jul 2010 at 4:56 am ¶I’m late to your blog and this post but know that I thought of you and your family, your beautiful little Evan — all that day and afterward. My love to you — and peace and some sort of comfort –
Posted 28 Jul 2010 at 8:47 pm ¶Vicki, I am so very sorry. You are held in my thoughts and my heart.
Posted 28 Jul 2010 at 9:55 pm ¶xxooxxoo
Posted 31 Jul 2010 at 4:26 am ¶A big hug for you, my friend. What a lovely post. It’s such a beautiful tribute to your beautiful boy.
Posted 05 Aug 2010 at 11:18 am ¶Beautiful. Tears roll down my face. Thank you for your honest grace.
Posted 06 Aug 2010 at 6:04 pm ¶So touching. Your son touched so many lives. Your words bring me to tears. I’m so sorry for the loss of your son.
Posted 19 Aug 2010 at 10:01 am ¶Hi Vicki i seen your story in the September issue of Parenting. It was hard for me not to cry. Im so so sorry to hear about your son. I lost my baby girl when i was 9 months pregant with her. Her due date was in 2 wks. So i can relate. Its the hardest thing you’ll ever have to go threw. If theres anything i can do let me know.
Posted 22 Aug 2010 at 9:17 pm ¶I rarely sit with a magazine but opened Parenting today and flipped to the blogger section. Without reading the article I picked a blog to explore and found yours. I lost my daughter as an infant and I am profoundly sorry for the loss of your son. I know it is not by accident that I found your blog today and look forward to reading more.
Posted 23 Aug 2010 at 12:49 pm ¶Post a Comment