Long Time Passing

Thirteen years ago, last night, Kyle took his fall. Still think of him every day. Still feel the impending overcast in the days and weeks leading up to the anniversary. As always there are many parts: Ky's birthday in April, the annual SFSU Commensa where we meet his scholarship awardee/s, his last visit home on Memorial Day, the 4th of July. The 5th at 7pm about the time of his fall. The call. The drive all night. When we finally spoke with Miranda. the blur of the next days. And tonight, 13 years ago when I could not say my final goodbye. Was is better for you that I was not there? My nagging regret, dearest son.

4th of July 2018

As I have said before, the 4th is not the hard day. Tomorrow the 5th is the hard day. For me. Because the time of Ky's accident is what anchors me. Miranda said that the 6th is that day for Gear. I have just walked back from the breakwater where I stood with thousands of strangers to watch the fireworks. I was struck by how silent all the adults were, how alone each was with his or her thoughts. The only sounds were the burstings in air and squeals of a couple of delighted kids. Breathlessly watching fireworks, aware of being alone. Realizing that every other individual was too. For those 20 mute minutes anyway.

8 years ago today

. . . . . . . . Grief is ever-changing. This many years after Kyle's accident I know this: Grief burrows deep and erupts when you least expect it--when I least expect it. I can tell a story about Kyle ten times and only on the eleventh do my eyes swell with tears and I can't quite speak. I can go for months, feeling steady all the while. Then unsteady. Spring is hard compared to the rest of the year. Kyle's birthday in April, Mother's Day, the SFSU scholarship trip, Memorial Day when Ky was last home, July 4th and our last conversation, and today, the day of the fall. I have a slight sense of impending doom, like the dark clouds of a storm coming in. I am unsettled. Easy to tear. Grief is circulating in me like blood, round and round and in an out of my heart. I am not quite sure what to do with it. It is not really intrusive, it is almost comforting. Surely it is familiar. I have lots of stuff I have to do but I am distracted even more than usual it seems. How do I spend these moments? Do I look at pictures of Kyle? Do I talk out loud to him? Of course, if he can hear me, he can also read my mind, so why speak, right? What do I do with my sadness? How do I honor him? What is the "healthy" thing to do? Just be with it, right? Just be in the moment. The moment. The fucking moment is uncomfortable. The fucking moment is empty. I just miss him miss him miss him. Tonight I will be at Forest Lawn with a few family and friends. Some of us then will eat at Mijares. The food and alcohol will numb me. Later at home, sober again, I will be alone with my grief. It will be okay. I will love you always, my baby boy.

SFSU History Department Awards

Tomorrow we present our 8th annual scholarship -- in honor of our dearly loved and missed Kyle Campbell Whitham McLeod -- to a deserving SFSU junior majoring in Latin American history. With initial and continuing gifts from family, friends, colleagues, IATSE, and others, the award has grown from $500 to $1000.00. We think that Kyle would be proud that his life produced this legacy, and that every year a young man or woman is helped to attain his or her educational goals because Kyle lived and loved and was loved so much in return. And how comforting to a mother to know that once a year--forever--someone will speak Kyle's name out loud as his scholarship is awarded.

Goodbye to The Puss

Today I held the Puss as he was sedated, yawned, fell asleep, and received the injection that stopped his heart within minutes. It was a gentle, peaceful, and comforting goodbye. I thought about Kyle, who loved our pets Toby and Puss, and took such great care with them. I still see him holding the cat up to me, shoving him toward me, "Mom, kiss the Cat; you love the Cat." Usually he did this when I was pissed off at the Puss for something like torturing Toby. I love the cat because Kyle loved the cat. So, while it was so sad, and I cried so much that my eyes were heavy all day, it was okay. A slow, sweet end to 17 years of being our Puss.

July 3rd -- Happy News

Miranda called on the 3rd to say that Joshua and she will get married next year. Such happy news. And how thoughtful of Joshua to choose this time to propose--on the 3rd of July--giving us a joyful memory to add to all the sad ones of the holiday.

Miranda was feeling a little guilty going away for the weekend, when she has spent the last three anniversaries in some form of mourning. When she called to tell me, she mentioned that. I said what I always say to myself, that Kyle spent the 4th and most of the 5th joyous and happy and with George and Laura at Santa Cruz and the beach and in a bookstore, and that it wasn't until the night of the 5th that the nightmare started.

But now, we have Miranda's marriage to Joshua to look forward to. He is a dear and loving man, supportive, caring, strong, thoughtful. I am gaining a wonderful son.

4 years ago tonight

we gathered tonight. a lovely group. nothing formal. george, andrew, sean, brian, esther, nadia, barb, marylou, di, siena, sel & sal, nancy, olivia, johnny, and great surprise - paul j. & james w/ carl.

the coyote showed up, some bunnies. later crows. still later after everyone but me and ML had left, a family of deer. momma, poppa & baby. politely, they didn't go for Ky's flowers or the plant that the harewoods brought. they stayed around, moving across Abiding Love and then across the hillside and then down and across the street to lower fields. as i drove away and around the bend, i had to wait for them as they crossed another street in front of me.

became aware today of wanting the silence that it takes to let the feelings come. purposefully didn't play the radio, except classical music. became more aware of how talk and food and drink takes up the space and dulls the emotions. maybe i am more afraid of the flow of feelings now than in the past.

it's not that i didn't cry or didn't feel. it's that i didn't linger, didn't quite face everything today, tonight.

dearest son, beautiful boy. i miss you.