A little increment closer to getting life back in to MY life.
Closer to being able to cry.
I’m still very scattered. My belongings are in Ohio. Everything ASHTON is here with me.
I have a bit of money in Kentucky from my deposit on the house being returned (coming here soon, I hope). I had to have it mailed there because I didn’t have an address. I still don’t. But, I have a dear friend’s basement for a while, I also know when a welcome is worn. I don’t want to be THAT person. I will stay six weeks at most. I should be able to pull it together by then.
AN AMAZING FRIEND. Not just anyone would step up like she has.
Down here, in the basement I am slowly unpacking the ultimate shrine. I’m hoping it will trigger more than 2 minutes of emotion at a time. I wish it would all come out at once. I am trying to flood it out by exposing myself to every memory.
I even went to Mass. I even prayed. I prayed to believe in God. I prayed that my baby is whole again. I prayed that he might be swimming in beautiful, mystic waters that glow blue from beneath with pink skies above him. I prayed he would have “fwinds”. I visualized him running and jumping ( he was difficult to catch on any good day of mine).
I know nothing could have saved him but a miracle. I need to understand why he was taken as an example and not left as a miracle. And what we are supposed to learn from this? It was an act of terrorism on his body. Why wouldn’t God have just spared him the pain and cut to the chase?