Writing

My counselor and support group both have me doing free writing exercises this week. Apparently it is a good way to see where I am, and hopefully open up new areas for discussion. It is supposed to work for whatever problem you have or decision you need to make. This topic is Fun with Colby. I start slowly. In fact, I don't start at all for about 20 minutes. My mind is swirling with a blur of thoughts, none of which I can single out. But eventually the thoughts begin to sort themselves and this is what comes up:

Michigan Rummy, diving off the dock, snow angels, Sundance, wading in the creek by the house, Snoqualmie and Dexter and Bootsie and Fred and Katie (horse, dog, cat, cat, and dog respectively), the Wizard of Oz car, Opryland, pizza, Goodnight Moon, the potty tree (my fun memory, not Colby's), the Minnesota and Cumberland science museums, Barry, the Delano parade, Canterbury, polka, dandelions, Frank and Jesse James, Old Axehandle.

I purposely stop after a minute or so. I don't want the list to get so long I cannot make sense of it. I know these words and phrases mean nothing to anyone other than myself. They would have meant something to Colby, though, and that is one of the biggest losses I deal with. There is no one to share memories with anymore. That is a topic that is still too painful to think about so I look at the words from a different angle. What I see now is that not all, but the majority of the places and events associated with the words, take place in Minnesota. That is something I had not realized before. I'm not sure what it means and know I will think about it, try to decipher the bigger picture that this narrow doorway of words opens into. What is also interesting is that there are no people on the list. My mother is associated with many of the events, but no one else, other than our four-legged friends, is involved at all. Another interesting phenomenon.

I need time to think, to reflect. Understanding is one of the keys to healing, understanding myself, Colby, experiences, those around us. Everyone's reality is a little bit different, but the more complete picture I can get the easier this process will be. I am impatient. I know this will never be over. Not really. Parents never recover from the loss of a child, but I am ready for the pain to soften, for the days to get just a little bit easier. I am 16 weeks into a several year journey. I have a long way to go.