One Year Later
It has been one year since my son Lucas passed away. I find myself in a different place then when I last updated about this at the sixth month mark. At the same time, some things are the same.
I recognized the significance of this day well in advance and planned to do certain things and avoid others. My plans weren't exactly written in ink, which as it turned out was pretty good. I planned on taking a half-day off work in the morning and Lisa went in and expected to come home at about noon. As it turned out, she came home earlier than planned and I just stayed home. I was going to go to the cemetery by myself, but instead we waited until we picked the girls up from school and went as a family. It was a small short healing moment with just the four of us.
Lisa and I are seeing a counselor through a program from Harvester Christian Church and this is helping us to work through many issues that had become roadblocks in the last six months.
We had been encouraged through these appointments to seek a vacation of sorts away from everything. This past weekend was the perfect time for that. The girls went with the VanMeters to the farm for cows, fishing, star-gazing and tractors. Lisa and I went to Lost Valley Lake for a romantic stay in a condo all to ourselves. We walked, fished, swam and fished some more while nursing Lisa's sunburn. It was a great weekend and a great reminder of things we'd like to do more as a family --perhaps without all that sunburn.
Besides that, work is very busy with migration and I'm doing all that I can to help our team be the best that it can be.
There are still many half-written, abbreviated or unfinished posts languishing in the series I'm supposed to be writing that goes through my life story. I don't have the same inspiration and drive to push forward with this project right now, but it's not closed yet. I've been really very interested in other projects --Musical Holocron, Arconati News, Happy Is The Bride-- that have been taking up all my time that I've not really needed to add more. Perhaps I'm allowing myself to be distracted or perhaps I don't feel the need to continue at the original pace. Either way, I'm not upset about it.
All in all, the best thing I can say is that we are moving forward and ready for the next chapter in our lives no matter what that may bring.
![[ This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours? ]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_v2uciiVfyG1qQEfX6BjDSOxuuUnv8ruqGMDj8ju8akWd1FGBK9qNXl8CULpOTlb9ACXwgYNeSaGXWwi0FeeGY6pEdc6yOGmDhi18ryYj5a=s0-d)
2 comments:
Your post at my blog today led me back to this page (again, I've come here a few times).
I think about you folks a lot. I don't know if I ever expressed to you how gutted I was when I first heard about Lucas, but it was one of the few times I'd ever cried over the death of someone I'd never met. I know it's probably not something you like being reminded of every day, but I'm sure you are anyway. I guess it's either that or awkward silence.
I enjoy reading your thoughts on many topics, and I like how you're able to express sadness and hope adjacent to one another in posts like this one. It's beautiful, if painfully so.
Anyway...I'm not really the best person out there to talk about stuff like this, as I've never really known what to say. Words are just things we use to fill the void left by emotions too powerful to express. But for whatever it's worth...my thoughts and love are always with you and your family.
Derek,
Thank you. The best possible thing in the world that you could ever do OR have done for me is to express in these exact words the effect Lucas had on you. Strange as it may be to believe, I've found it comforting to know that his life (and death) meant so very much to so many --even to those that had not yet had a chance to meet him.
So words may not seem powerful. But I thank you wholeheartedly for these.
Post a Comment