Climbing Mountains

I was watching a tv show and two women were talking about loss.

“How did you survive?”

“I didn’t think I could. It seemed impossible. Like climbing a mountain that keeps on going. All the while, you’re carrying so much pain that you can barely move. And that pain is the pain of memory. Of loss. Let the physical loss hurt as much as it needs to. But also remember that every memory that you have is filled with love. It’ll be with you. You’ll feel it every day…because love never dies.”

20 months have passed now. I have a hard time understanding how it both feels like yesterday but also like so much time has passed. He has missed so much. So much of his life already that could have been enjoyed. Time with friends. Family. His girlfriend. We have missed so much with him. Where would he be now? He would be 21 now. Would he still be with the same company? They were training him for that promotion. Would he have actually gotten it and have continued to work his way up? Would he be engaged? Would he have moved out or would I still be rolling my eyes at all of the slamming of the garage door and hoarding of my dishes on his bedside table?

20 months and I am no longer having the same panic attacks at the loss but that doesn’t mean that every day isn’t still difficult. I think of him every moment of every day. Sometimes I smile and sometimes I am fighting back tears. Other times, there is no way to fight them. They just fall.

No matter how many months or years pass, I will always be climbing the mountain in that quote. I will always have the same pain, regardless of how good I get at carrying it. Or how well I get at hiding it. He is part of me. I created him. He was half me. Half his father. He had my eyes. My face. My goofy sense of humor. He will live within me as long as my heart beats. He will live within all of us who love him.

And I will continue to climb that mountain for as long as I have to…