A sad day

I am by nature a happy person and I am not one to get "down in the dumps." But a couple of times a year, I am very sad.

Today would be my youngest son, Anthony Bryan Caruth's 28th birthday. He died when he was 14 from complications from Crohns Disease. He was born on September 29, 1977 at 2:20a.m. Exactly at 2:20 a.m. today, I woke up and glanced at the clock. It is very unusual for me to wake up at that time. In fact, it has probably been over a year since I have awaken before 4:30a.m. From the moment that I awoke until I go to sleep tonight, he will be on my mind. The length of time since he died is almost the same amount of time that he lived. But it still is as if he is fourteen years old to me.

I often see memorials for the deceased on their birthdays and the survivors often write as if the deceased have continued to grow and have birthdays. They even give congratulations on their birthday. This week I saw one memorial to an eight year old boy where the father wrote a long "letter" to his son and described in detail how he was at some kind of sport and he was giving his son a play-by-play description of the game. It was if the father was still living as if his son was alive and dwelling on it all for his son.

I cannot do this. I carry my son in my heart and he will be there until I die. And when I die, someone will carry me and my son in their heart. And if we are lucky, several people will carry us with them. No one will need to feel like it is too heavy for them. Bryan was a funny kid and loved to make people laugh. Even in the worst of times, I can usually find something good and can look at a situation with a quirky outlook.

I have much to be thankful for---a son, Alan who is a sensitive, honest, responsible, dependable, hard-working, and all around well balanced young man with a good sense of humor; a husband who fits the same description except older; friends and family who put up with me even when I am on one of my rants.
I have a roof over my head, a freezer full of organically grown food, freedom to do artsy stuff almost as I wish, and more art/craft materials than anyone should have without using them more than I do. So even when I am sad, I am grateful for what I have and the memories I carry with me.