“The future came and went in the mildly discouraging way that futures do.”
― Neil Gaiman
It’s 6:15 am on Friday, May 12. I remember when we used to count Fridays as notable markers, beads on an the abacus of time. “It’s been five weeks since Vernon’s accident…t’s been 16, its been two years, etc”…all tethered by Fridays. Stringing the Fridays together, they gave us a framework that reminded us how far we’d come, even though no clues were given on how far we would have to go. Eventually we moved to the same street that Vernon had been hit at the corner of. Every morning, as we waited at the stop sign, before left-turning across “ground zero”, we’d silently think about it, but especially on Fridays, when I’d say it out loud. I still do that sometimes, but I’ve lost track of the number. There are too many of them.
Like parents of newborns, there seems to be a code of counting the weeks that only other parents of young ones understand: “How old is your baby?” The answer might be, for example: “seven and a half weeks”…or “15 weeks.”
I used to wonder why those parents couldn’t just round it up for the convenience of others. Just say three months already! Of course when I had my own, I understood. So much change can happen in a week, I wouldn’t want people to undervalue a single moment of what we’ve been watching in this child’s development. 15 weeks is different than 16 weeks. Or so it feels in the thick, slow, always-vigilant early days.
Then we move to months: “How old is your baby now?” …“Oh, 14 months.” Ok, that’s just ridiculous—why can’t you just say a YEAR? …..Because it’s not a year. Those extra two months have been counted in spoons, watchfully, heartbreakingly. Eventually, the parent comes out the other side, into the greater society of counting their child’s age by years and half years (or if the child insists, quarter years.)
So here we are…now 6:35 on another Friday. I’ve forgotten the number of weeks now, but I’m sure I could figure it out with little effort.* It’s two short of three years. Three years! Every May is heavy with an underlying awareness that the milestone of “the night” is rolling around again. Like a birthday, this brings some extra reflection and mood swings (for all of us). It’s been a tough month…as it should be. The greater the loss, the more honor it deserves. And it was a very great loss to this family.
While we are on the subject, Maki’s half birthday is in three days. He’ll be 15 and a half: old enough for a driver’s permit, just short of sweet 16. And Justine turns seven in three weeks. We celebrated her fourth birthday soon after the crash. I keep trying to remind her that she’s six still, holding on a little longer. But now so close, that begins to seem pointless. Lets just round up already. I am 45 (and a half, more or less.) We keep ticking through these Fridays, growing up together.
*PS…It’s been 154 weeks, officially, today. Wasn’t that hard to do the math, after all.
46
Thank you for sharing. We live st my dear nephew in November and your sharing today gives me insight into my own grief. More importantly it gives me a glimpse of my sister’s reality.
November must feel so recent…and yet so far away. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss in your family. Dates and markers are important. Painful perhaps, but I imagine over time, they help us remember how far we have come.
Love you, Allison. Thank you for sharing your heart and thoughts. Sending love to you and the kiddos every day.
thank you, sweet friend. xoxo
Allison,
Think of you often and send a little pray up for you. Your writing is so good. Hope that
you get thru May with a little help from your friends and relatives. We lost our Grandaughter Ashley in 1997 at the age of 12 and 2 months. These things can be so upsetting. Ashley was raped and murdered on that day. The Lord saw fit to take her home to be with Him.
God bless you and sit beside you during this time.
Becky
Hi Allison.
This little fellow turned up at my old workplace today:
https://www.instagram.com/p/BUB5-7TBd20/?taken-by=olavnilsen
Thanks for keeping the blog running, I read every update keenly.
Ps. I’m counting.
Helge
Hi Helge! Did you hear the BBC podcast yet…I was hoping you could get that on the website from Norway. I think you’d like it a lot. Love the pigeon! They are EVERYWHERE (thank goodness!) Hope you are well.
Listened to it just now and phew that got the waterworks going. Hearing Verns voice again knocked me out.
But supernice program, loved it.
BTW the pigeon thing, when i first read that he picked that i immediately thougt ~thats the Vernon I know~ his charming spitefulness shining through..
So intetesting.. I think counting is a way we process and learn to cope with tragic losses. I too counted days, and then weeks and then months.. I kept thinking that with the passage of time the fog of grief would lift, that at some magical date, things would be “better”.. but then I realized that it doesn’t magically happen and what is needed is a change of one’s own thinking. Acknowlege the grief, develop strategies to work through and grow in a positive way.. Professional counseling was a huge help.
like rings on a tree, maybe? But I think I do this every year with birthdays too…I just like counting dates…although I’m not terribly organized about them! 🙂 Anyway, I still go in and out of days and moods of grief…not too long to get depressed but there are some lows for sure. We are going to counseling too…it takes a long time, but I also know that I’ll be able to help others on the other end of it if I can experience it while Im in it, if that makes sense? Loved seeing you and Terri a couple weeks ago. Always wonderful to see your smiles.