Taken Aback

Well, I thought all the rough edges and feelings of sadness and loss and teary eyes were gone but I was wrong. I don't know what happened but it was probably a combination of things. I kept thinking, why this time of year. Yes, it was around the time of Terry's death but it was Kevin who so dominated my thoughts. I thought I was beyond all of that and that my faith had carried me on to a position of comfort and remembrance. Not so , it seemed. I had pulled out Kevin's video, that his father had put together, to give to Brian. When he returned it, I thought I'd sit down and watch the tape. Actually, I had only seen it at Kevin's Memorial Service but, then, there was so much going on, people around, and obviously, I was in a completely different state of mind. The video was right there. It's not that I haven't looked at pictures of Kevin, I have. I have a picture of him, the cross I had on the table at his service, and the memorial candle with his picture on it that the funeral home puts together, all on his shelf in my living room. But I guess this was different. My little tiny house has become my sanctuary. It's also the place I have to get out of when I start dwelling on sad things. The walls of an already confined space start crashing in. That Sunday afternoon, for some reason, I thought I would pop Kevin's video into the player. Actually, I'm calling it a video but it is a DVD and I don't "pop" anything electronic. I always cross my fingers that I remember how to operate the DVD player.

Kevin's father had put together a montage of Kevin's young life. I guess sitting there , by myself, no distractions, just totally focused on wonderful remembrances of Kevin, over the years, was too much. Kevin's father even included a segment of Brian and Kevin at a Land Rover off-road event taken with a video camera. He was alive and real, there, with his brother in the Land Rover driving around. And now he is gone.

So why all of this set back now? Now the things that impinge on my daily thoughts, a memory, a person, a place, which use to bring me comfort, cause grief and anxiousness as if I have to go through all of the stages of healing once again. I panicked inside as I read in the paper that "Drop Kick Murphy" was playing at the Valaire Ballroom. I've probably misspelled the name. Anyway, a local venue for varied artists. The night Kevin disappeared he was wearing a green "Drop Kick Murphy" tee shirt. At another point I might have gone to see this Irish, folk, punk-rock group that Kevin liked, but now I wanted to forget. I will go out and get one of their Cd's at some point in time, but not now.

Perhaps my faith has wained. That's nothing extraordinary. Waxing and waining. Just like the tides, the moon, our emotions... Maybe everything. I always strive for balance, evenness. It's a little disconcerting to be "high as a kite", actually, because I know I'm going to come down. God comes to us in joy or, maybe I should say, we feel him more when we're in a state of joyousness. He is always with us but despair seems to set us apart from him. At least, with me anyway. So, four plus years later I don't understand all of this. Why I have to feel the pain of the loss of Kevin so acutely, once again. And Terry, too. I'm sure that has something to do with, it as well as the loss of my own immortality. Not that I thought I was going to live forever. But to be more faced with death, one's own, as I've said, is something else. There is a reason for all of this, I am sure. Even depression has a positive because we are working through something and will come out of it better and stronger. I feel a renewed closeness with Kevin which, once again, makes the loss so much more. Whatever else I'm feeling, I don't know. Whatever it is, grief, sadness, depression... I am very taken aback.