Six

It is six months today since Colby passed. It seems like just yesterday. And some days I still can't believe he is gone at all. This morning I talk with a parent whose child has been gone for almost fifteen years and she says it is only in the past year that she can think of her son without pain. Fifteen years. I hope I can someday reach that stage in my grief, but today I can't possibly fathom life without the pain of his loss. Colby touched so many and we are all profoundly affected by his absence. I hope he knows how much he is loved and missed, how much his life enriched all of ours, how we hope and pray for his happiness and peace.

A counselor suggests I try to figure out what I have learned in the past six months. I break the list into groups: positive things, negative things, what I have learned about myself, about Colby, about others. The list grows throughout the day and at some point I begin to shorten the list, to edit it down to what is most important to me at this hour of this day. Much of what I learn comes from all-night sessions with myself and with God, and also from sorting through all of Colby's "stuff." The top ten things come down to (in no particular order):

• Colby's mental illness was greater than anyone realized
• Colby was many things to many people, which is part of the schizophrenia
• Colby "knew" at a very young age that he would not be here long––and he was okay with that
• Colby cared very much about people, animals, and the environment
• Colby struggled silently, when opening up could have brought him help
• I love Colby unconditionally and will never get over his loss
• I am still terrified at the thought of being the last of my family
• Like Colby, I have many wonderful friends
• I miss Colby with every breath I take
• I am more proud of my son than words can ever say

Tomorrow's list will look different, as did yesterday's. My emotions are still on a huge roller coaster, doing so many loops and spins that I wonder if I will ever find my way off of this ride.