We're back from our little trip to Seattle. I took A.J. to the
cemetery to let her say the goodbyes that she didn't have a chance to
all those years ago.
I found the old photo album that Kit and I had put together before the twins were born. The one we made for them. I gave it to A.J., and we sat there and I explained the stories behind a lot of the photographs and the souvenirs, like the pictures from the time we went water-skiing.
Kit had taken one just after I wiped out. I look like a drowned rat. I didn't think she kept that one, but she did. Now I have to endure the endless torment of A.J. laughing. Oh, well, it's worth it.
A.J. is well on her way to recovering. I know that it took a lot for her to stand there and acknowledge that she would never know her mother or her twin brother. She says that she's glad that she forced herself to do it. Now, she says, she feels a sense of closure, where there wasn't one before.
I know that she feels guilty for surviving that wreck too. She told Psyche-Out that she feels like she's living what they call a "charmed life".
I didn't know what it was that she laid at the foot of the tombstone, but as soon as I realized that it was her journal, I was surprised. She told me that she wanted them to know what she thought about everything; about what had happened after the second wreck nearly claimed her life again.
She sat there and began to ask forgiveness for surviving. I didn't realize until then the depth of the guilt that she carried within her. No wonder she's such an overachiever. She thinks that she has to make up for being one of the only ones to come out of that smashed car alive. Both times.
As she sat there, talking, a shaft of sunlight fell through the trees and limned her in a halo of light. I knew right then and there that it was a sign that her mother and her brother were watching out for her.
A pair of butterflies landed on her, one on each shoulder, and I knew that they were telling her how much she was loved. When they flew over to me, I was shocked to see that they had landed one on each of my shoulders. After they flew away, I had the most amazing feeling of peace, like I knew that my wife and son were in a much happier and better place.
I know that it takes a lot for A.J. to go out of the house, but since we visited the graves, I'd swear that it is easier for her to do now. It's like she knows that she has quite a few guardian angels.
While we were there, I went to the one place that I hadn't been to in over thirty years because it was so painful- my mother's final resting place. She passed away from Cancer when I was only about five years old. I still remember her, though. Faintly, but I do remember.
I sat and talked to her for a while, and I introduced A.J. to her. I told her how much she would have loved Kit, E.J., and A.J., and I told her how much I missed her and told her about everything that I could think of.
I suddenly knew how much she loved me, and I told her that I finally realized it.
I miss you, Mom.
I found the old photo album that Kit and I had put together before the twins were born. The one we made for them. I gave it to A.J., and we sat there and I explained the stories behind a lot of the photographs and the souvenirs, like the pictures from the time we went water-skiing.
Kit had taken one just after I wiped out. I look like a drowned rat. I didn't think she kept that one, but she did. Now I have to endure the endless torment of A.J. laughing. Oh, well, it's worth it.
A.J. is well on her way to recovering. I know that it took a lot for her to stand there and acknowledge that she would never know her mother or her twin brother. She says that she's glad that she forced herself to do it. Now, she says, she feels a sense of closure, where there wasn't one before.
I know that she feels guilty for surviving that wreck too. She told Psyche-Out that she feels like she's living what they call a "charmed life".
I didn't know what it was that she laid at the foot of the tombstone, but as soon as I realized that it was her journal, I was surprised. She told me that she wanted them to know what she thought about everything; about what had happened after the second wreck nearly claimed her life again.
She sat there and began to ask forgiveness for surviving. I didn't realize until then the depth of the guilt that she carried within her. No wonder she's such an overachiever. She thinks that she has to make up for being one of the only ones to come out of that smashed car alive. Both times.
As she sat there, talking, a shaft of sunlight fell through the trees and limned her in a halo of light. I knew right then and there that it was a sign that her mother and her brother were watching out for her.
A pair of butterflies landed on her, one on each shoulder, and I knew that they were telling her how much she was loved. When they flew over to me, I was shocked to see that they had landed one on each of my shoulders. After they flew away, I had the most amazing feeling of peace, like I knew that my wife and son were in a much happier and better place.
I know that it takes a lot for A.J. to go out of the house, but since we visited the graves, I'd swear that it is easier for her to do now. It's like she knows that she has quite a few guardian angels.
While we were there, I went to the one place that I hadn't been to in over thirty years because it was so painful- my mother's final resting place. She passed away from Cancer when I was only about five years old. I still remember her, though. Faintly, but I do remember.
I sat and talked to her for a while, and I introduced A.J. to her. I told her how much she would have loved Kit, E.J., and A.J., and I told her how much I missed her and told her about everything that I could think of.
I suddenly knew how much she loved me, and I told her that I finally realized it.
I miss you, Mom.