Sunday, October 9, 2011

October 11

The sun is shining, the sky is a clear blue and a hint of coolness fills the air. Crows in the redwoods are cawing to each other, back and forth. Periodically, I hear the muted roar of motorcycle engines, as they race up and down the ribbon of asphalt that is Skyline Boulevard. It is a beautiful fall day up here on the mountain.

And yet...there is a melancholy to my happiness. Last night, I dreamed of Sean, eleven years gone, still a boy in my dreams. I dreamed that I had forgotten him, that he was alive and I had not seen him in years.

Part of that is true - I have not seen him in years. Eleven years in fact. But I have not forgotten you, Sean. I will never forget you, ever. I have been distracted lately, I will admit that. But I have not forgotten.

Later today, Jim and I will meet at the Land. We will winterize the bench, the bench your friends built in your memory, like we do every fall. We will go up to the old cabin, what's left of it, and think of all the good times we had with you up there when you were young. We will walk to the deck and to the pond. And then Jim will come with me to see my new place on Skyline. Yes, I have a new place. Life moves forward, without you; I cannot change that.

Tuesday I will visit the high school and the auditorium, your home-away-from-home. It will be hard, because Tim won't be there, but I will visit none-the-less. And I will remember you both, and miss you both, the two of you, forever entwined in my heart, forever associated with Fremont High School and its auditorium.

And on Tuesday, I will lay a red rose - one at the condo where we lived, one at the railroad tracks where you breathed your last breath, and one down at the high school, as close as I can get to the auditorium. Because, now matter how busy or otherwise distracted one gets on this earthly world, a mother never forgets her child. Ever.

No comments:

Post a Comment