Moving on?

Dear Mom,

I've been trying to concentrate on life's many challenges. I've been trying not to think about you. Being busy with life, makes it possible.

Even so, I wonder how you are doing in your new world. I wonder if you ever drop by and see us.

People often say that those who pass on to the next life remain nearby, yet I no longer see any evidence that you are with me. I can't help but feel that you've moved on.

In many respects, that feeling saddens me.

Early on, when oddities would occur, it would be a constant source of encouragement. Even though the pain was raw, the encouragement that you were not far away was a great aid in getting through those tough times.

Things have gotten easier, but there are still tough times.

Yesterday, I was looking over some legal paperwork, dealing with the probate. I saw your certificate of death. For the first time, I really studied it.

As I looked at your name, printed all in capital letters, it dawned on me again the finality of your departure.

TERRY J. WEEKS, DECEASED

I focused heavily upon each word. Suddenly, all of the emotion of the days at the hospital came flooding back to me. It wasn't fair that I could never speak to you again. It wasn't right that such a wonderful person could ever die. Why can't the good ones live on? Why can't death be reserved exclusively for the traitorous scum who victimize everyone on the planet?

You lived such a short life here. During that time, you only sought to help people, and never tried to hurt anyone.

I wish to God that I could bring you back. Just one more laugh. Just one more visit. One more conversation over a cup of coffee. Why can't it be so?

I confess that I don't understand life any more than I understand death. But I am aware that the latter is a part of the former, and I have to accept that. You are gone, and nothing will ever bring you back.

But letting go proves difficult. Months sometimes pass, and then something out of the blue, without warning, hits me — maybe a thought, maybe something someone says, or maybe it's a song on the radio that played in your hospital room...

It hits me like a ton of bricks and takes me back to the starting point. It's as if it all happened yesterday.

My father-in-law told me, after he lost his Dad, that you never get over it. I believe him.

I hope you're happy in your new world. I don't think I'll ever be in this one.

I'm so sorry,

Darren