TJ’s birthday was 6 days ago. I thought I would get up that morning and write something. I guess I thought I “should”. I woke up early & posted birthday wishes to my angel on social media which proved harder than I anticipated. And then the day progressed with much love from family and friends. I never wrote another word after that post. I couldn’t. I was in each moment, be it happiness or tears. Both were plentiful.
TJ turned 16 on September 23rd. He would be in 11th grade, learning to drive, probably getting a job, studying hard, dancing, hiking, doing all the things he loved. Interestingly, it’s impossible to know what he really would have loved. We have these kids, kids who die at a young age (by “we” I mean that I have numerous friends whose kids have died) and our image of them is stuck at whatever their age was when they left Earth. A precious baby who we’ve just fallen in love with. A newly mobile toddler discovering the world A precocious preschooler learning to debate with their own sense of reason. A grade-schooler expanding his skills and knowledge but still clinging to mom and dad. A teenager who is sure she is smarter than you. A young adult on the brink of making his way in the world. We remember at “that” age. We have no other choice. It’s as far as they got while they were with us.
While talking to a dear friend about what I was going to do on TJ’s birthday I was asked “what did TJ like to do?” Key word “did”. It hasn’t gone without thought that the things TJ liked at 12 would likely not be what he would like at 16. He may still be dancing. I think he would be. He really loved it & had wanted to be on the dance team. I think he’d still be drawing and creating and inventing. His mind was always full of ideas and that kind of t trait doesn’t change in a person. But all the “things” he liked- the particular games, collections, posters, books….those were things that a 12 year old liked. A boy becomes a young man and while the parts of TJ’s personality that made him love all those things would still exist, they would be played out as a growing and maturing kid.
I made origami cranes and strung them together. Do I think he would still be creating his own original origami? I’d like to think so. Origami is very mathematical and TJ wanted to be an engineer. This is something I honestly believe he would be doing at 16 years old. When his little brother saw them he promptly told me that TJ would have made them better and faster. “Yep, you are right.”
TJ’s oldest sister commented on this exact idea when we were celebrating his birthday. She’s right. We have no idea what he would be interested in and we can only speculate. We grow and we lay down the things of our childhood. It’s so hard for us left behind to do that too- to say, I can take this poster of his down because TJ probably would have too. That poster is a visual of TJ. Those doodads are as well. But they aren’t HIM. Just like my knick knacks and doodads aren’t ME. They are an expression of my heart, of my style. And certainly the way my personality is expressed has changed since I was 12.
I’ve come to a stage in my life where I am forced to let go of things, by which I mean not just hurts and regrets and sadness, etc., but actual objects. There simply isn’t room for EVERY thing that has accumulated in my life and my kids’ lives. So I pick and choose and remind myself, ‘ TJ (and all my kids) would have set this aside long ago. It’s ok if you do the same. He is not his things. Remember your blog about that exact idea? He is in your heart and soul and woven into every thread of your being. He will never leave you and you will never leave him. It doesn’t matter if everything was lost in a flood. You would not lose him. He will not think less of you if you don’t have his (insert any object here) with you. You have his heart and that is all that matters.’
This is my self-talk. This is how I “get through it”, if that’s a thing. No, it is a thing, getting through it is a thing; getting over it is not. And I can get through it and I can be better for it. At least that’s the plan.
