Tonight is the eve of our fourth acci-versary. I wonder what it would be like to only have one big day a year to remind us of who and what was lost. But we have several. May 23rd is probably the biggest one because when I look back, I know that fateful Friday in 2014 marked the event that turned our world upside down. It unhinged us, it damaged us, it transformed us. And yet…we still grow, we still transform. Every year, we are slightly different versions of ourselves, older, affected by moods and circumstance, by each other. So it’s no wonder we process grief a little differently each time these important dates roll back around the sun. This is the day we can look back at and recognize that we aren’t the three people we used to be.

Over time, I’m noticing, grief gets less less foggy. The fog can make a person feel really crazy for awhile, so I’m glad it is dissipating. Also, the shock of early trauma has generally worn off so a sad moment can feel more intense because of the normalcy/joy/forgetfulness that surrounds it. It’s all relative to what is around, I suppose. I find myself more sharp, and even more angry at the injustice of the story this year. That shocks me a little…but I let it roll over, pleased that at least it matches the gloomy May skies of my southern California home. I’m weirdly pleased that I’m even  feeling anything painful.— it validates the love somehow, especially as the memory of that love and life together is already fading away. Perhaps the injustice is something I can sink my teeth into in a way I wasn’t able to when I was on the front lines. The other day, I found myself telling someone that Vernon had been “killed” in an accident. This is true, but of course I couldn’t call it that for a long time because he was still alive.  Now it seems just the word to wrap things up, and I don’t have to tell the whole story to another stranger. For now, it feels like it conveys the unfairness of it all—for THAT is the part that stings most. I think right now I’m not just grieving  the loss  of Vernon anymore—but the life our family would have had if this had not happened. It’s okay, we will still try to live our lives well (there is a lot of it ahead of us, I hope!) its just that we didn’t have  a choice in the matter. I grieve our loss of innocence that the world was supposed to work a certain way if we only loved each other.

Justine said an interesting thing the other day: she said she thought Vernon had held on longer so that he could spend more time wth her…otherwise she wouldn’t have remembered her time with her dad at all, because she was so young. Then she pointed out that both Maki and I had been allowed to know him longer than she had…and that that wasn’t fair. It’s always good to hear the workings of a young mind that can express itself…certainly gives a new perspective. And yes, its another sad angle, but I know this is temporary. We are all feeling the blues, but now its just for a couple of days…not a whole month at a time.  And we’ve learned to expect something.We didn’t give her a name that means “justice” for nought. At least we can still feel and name things…that’s a twisted blessing, but still a blessing. 

Now that I’ve cleared out my real-time (and temporary) thoughts in those paragraphs, I can move to the good stuff. At four years out from his accident, the three American Adams family members are still loving one another, still living in harmony, despite the unconventionality of our circumstances. Justine will be moving into third grade after this summer…she got glasses a month ago, so she can now SEE…and that makes her happy.  Maki is learning to drive, and he is quite good at it. He’s a cautious and deliberate soul, so I feel at ease in the passenger seat on the way to school and back every day.  He recently went to prom with his girlfriend Kiersten (from another school) and that felt like a lovely milestone. He also will be starting a new job this summer that we are very happy about…he’s heading in a great direction and growing up elegantly. We are looking forward to his Norwegian/New Zealander family coming to visit him in July. Sometimes the worlds collide in the best and most unexpected ways!

As for myself, I’m still balancing life as a mother an artist and all-around emotional human being. Its been empowering much of the time, just to discover how possible things actually are! I have a dream exhibit of my paintings in a San Diego Museum come February next year. Our dreams are being blessed so we continue to name them boldly. God does watch out for the widows and orphans, it seems. And so we continue to believe…its altogether interesting, the good and the bad, the difficult and the sublime. This is the life we embrace. Most of the time, its very good. These days are just really hard….and we embrace them too.

Here we are in the strange and unexpected and/all of Family Life. Love always wins. This is my experience and my belief.