Shattered Glass

Damian,  Today is Christmas. It's been a little over a year since we lost you but here we are. Here I am.  As is always the case, I miss you. I am relieved to tell you, however, that it's not with the soul crushing hopelessness and despair that marked the first few days, weeks and months following your death.  Your absence still hurts, but it's different now – less acute, less omnipresent. I am confident that I can live out my days like this, even if nothing else changes. I can live with these feelings. What I felt in the beginning was not sustainable or livable – it was excruciating. So much so that I all but begged to be put out of my misery. I think I stuck it out because I felt I owed it to your mom. She had already been through so much. I wanted to do what I could to help her survive this ordeal. I'm glad that I did.  Your mom is also now in a much better place. It's taken a lot of work, but she is able to laugh again and enjoy herself. We went to a party last ...

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of Damian's passing. One. Whole. Year.  Looking back, it's difficult to say how I feel today about everything that I've gone through. That Dawn and I have gone through, together. "Surreal" still comes to mind, but not exactly for the same reasons as it did in the beginning. Well, some of the old ones are still there..  Did this really happen?  Is Damian really gone?  Has it really been a year since that December morning when I (we) lost my (our) only son and my (our) world irrevocably shattered?  ...but now there are new ones as well: Did I really travel to Rhode Island to tour a school that teaches the art and science of wooden boat building?  Am I serious about moving to RI so I can attend this school?  How and when did all these new people that I feel so connected to come into my life?  "Grateful" is another feeling that runs very deep. As difficult as this journey has been (and at times, still is), I struggle...

Fear. It comes in many forms. The form I'm facing right now is that of uncertainty and risk. I have a decision to make about my future – correction: about OUR future. I know what I want to do, that part is easy. It's the decision of whether or not to make that left turn at this stage in life that scares me.  A couple of weeks ago, Dawn and I went to Rhode Island for a long weekend, ostensibly to 'get away' for a few days. Or so we told people. The reality was slightly different.  For as long as I can remember I have been drawn to the water, boats, and sailing. While I have been able to realize my passion for sailing and racing, there has been another aspect to my love of boats that has gone unfulfilled – learning how to build them. Of special interest to me is the art of wooden boat building.  Unlike boats built from myriad other construction materials (namely fiberglass), wooden boats are alive. Rich with character and old world charm. The craftsmanship that goes into ...

Dear Damian,  It's been a while since I wrote you last. Sorry for the long delay. Please don't interpret this to mean that I've moved on or don't think about you that much any more. This is definitely not the case. While I have been busy – no excuse – I just kind of ran out of steam and needed a break. That said, Andrea has cracked the whip and told both me and your mom to get writing again...So here I am.  Don't hate me (us), but we bought a big boat. It's a 1988 Cal 28-2. She went into the water yesterday. I spent that previous 9 days working my butt off getting ready for yesterday's launch – lots of buffing, polishing, and waxing. She looks really good between the waterline and the rub rail. Now that she's in the water, I'll start working to deep clean the topsides. We haven't gone sailing yet as I still need to tune the rig, get the boom attached, and string all the running rigging. That will happen sometime next week.  Your mom is obviously ...

I went into the office today. Saw some people I hadn't seen in a long time. Had some good conversations, but one stands apart from the rest.  Michelle and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye. Not sure why, but there's always been kind of an antagonistic vibe floating in the air when we're around each other. It could be that I'm imagining it, but I don't think so. Anyway, she was walking past my office late this afternoon and stopped when she saw me. We said hello and I asked her how her summer was and if she had gone anywhere. She told me about her children, one in college the other in high school, both seniors. She asked me how I am – ok – and how Dawn is. Up and down, I told her. It was at this point that I just went all in and told her how difficult it's been at times, struggling to make sense out of what had happened. How some days can still knock us – mostly Dawn at this point – for a loop. Sometimes we see it coming; other times not so much. I told her ho...

What is real? I don't recall asking myself this question before Damian died, but now that he's gone, I'm giving it a lot of thought. It usually comes on the heels of me thinking about Damian and then wondering if he was real. As in: Did he really exist? Of course, I know that Damian was real.  The pain that I experienced is evidence enough of this. I do believe, however, that my mind struggles with this because it can't process his sudden and irrevocable absence. It's hard to accept consciously. I can't begin to pretend to understand what it's doing to my subconscious. All I can see is the byproduct – my monkey brain asking weird questions and struggling to find the right answers... Yesterday I accepted an invitation to go sailing / racing at the end of October. I had the opportunity to crew in a race this coming weekend, but I couldn't bring myself to say yes. Saying ok to the end of October feels safe. Probably because with so many weeks between now an...

I'm having (or did have) a bit of rough afternoon. Dawn and I are in Wilmington (NC) visiting my aunt. Damian loved it here. My aunt Emily is a lot of fun to be around and there is a lot to do here, much of it revolving around the water.  Today, the 3 of us headed south to Fort Fisher and caught the ferry to Southport. On the ferry ride back (to Fort Fisher) I became keenly aware of the hole in my soul. Damian should be here with us. It's wrong that he's not. For the last few hours, I haven't said much. I just withdrew myself from the conversation. If I had my druthers, I'd probably take it one step further and hide in the bedroom, or, better yet, snap my fingers and teleport back to our house. It's my safe zone, which is ironic since this is where Damian chose (?) to take his own life.  Dawn and I were talking a few days ago about the stigma of suicide. I asked her if she thought people would treat us differently if Damian had been killed in an accident or died...

Shame. Last week I was consumed by white hot fury. Unbridled rage. Now, 7 days later, what I feel most is shame, mixed with a little undercurrent of sadness. I have worked really hard the last few years to gain agency over my temper. Therapy, self-help books, no alcohol – I've done them all. I thought I had been successful. Well, to a degree I have been successful, but if last Monday showed me anything it's that my work in this area isn't done. Far from it. I still have the capacity to go nuclear and to burn bridges with the blast heat of my rage. Another thing that I don't like this about myself. Making it even harder to accept is knowing how I feel when I'm on the receiving end of such an outburst. I worked with a guy for many years who ran hot, always just a few degrees below a full boil, simmering. A little push in the wrong direction and it was the full-on theatrics and tantrums of a recalcitrant teen. And that's where I was a week ago. Replaying the highli...

I hit my breaking point today. An hour ago I just snapped. Went ape shit kicking the door to the basement, hellbent on destroying it before Dawn pulled me away and got me to calm down. Looks like I've got a lot of anger to deal with, still. (And now a door to replace.) A few months ago, I was done with ETI. I was over working there and ready for something else.  And then I got pulled back in with the promise of a lucrative payout if I stayed until the company was sold. Turns out that was bullshit.  I was hoping for enough money where I could not work for a couple of years and not have to worry about finances. With that now out the window, I feel like I'm having to hit a hard reset in terms of where I go next as I doubt that I can afford to chase my life's dreams. Instead, I'll have to find another job at another company. Not an exciting prospect at 54. But right now, I'm so fucking angry that I can't think clearly. I feel like I've been conned. Hornswoggled....

Balance. It's something that I've been thinking about the last few days, trying to determine how to divvy up my time thinking about the Before vs. living in the After. Too much of one and not enough of the other is no bueno, so it comes down to one thing: balance.  As far as I know, there are no instructions on how to find a healthy mix. I do, however, think it's easy to spot when the mix disproportionately favors one or the other. I've met people in both camps: those who can't leave the past and those who run from it. What's ironic is that both do it for the same reason – to not do what they are doing would be too painful. If I had to assign myself to one group or the other, I probably lean more toward looking forward. I can and do look back, but most of the time I don't do so actively. Usually, it's a sense that triggers a memory from the Before. This may lead to other memories but eventually the trip down memory lane comes to end and I'm back in t...

Last week was good for me. I worked out every day and was productive at work. So win - win.  A couple of weeks ago, I decided to give Crossfit another try. I had done it for about 3 years back in the mid teens (circa 2015 – 2018). I don't remember exactly why I quit going but suspect it was a combination of being burned out and irritated with some of the coaches and other members. Since leaving Crossfit, I worked out, off and on, at home doing a lot of the same exercises that I did while still a member. I now have a small Crossfit gym at home with much of the same equipment...that I have rarely used since Damian died. I was mostly content to see it gathering dust until I got back the results of my last physical three weeks ago.  I go in for a physical every 2 years, always on my even birthdays. Turning 54 (back in June) it was time for another one. The exam itself is kind of a joke – a few general questions ("Does anything hurt?", "How are you sleeping?"), a ste...

I continue to be surprised (?) by how "little things" have the ability squeeze my heart, to make me feel the loss of Damian more acutely, without warning.  On Friday, I had to drop my truck off at the service station for an oil change. Dawn followed behind to take me back to the house. On the way home we passed Roberts Elementary. Although Damian went to Roberts for kindergarten, I don't usually give it much thought as I pass by it regularly since it's so close to the house. On Friday, the electronic marquee in front of the school had a banner celebrating the incoming 5th grade class announcing them as "The Class of 2031". I don't know what it was exactly about this that caught my attention, but I could feel the sadness welling up inside me almost instantly. Damian was supposed to graduate high school in 2024, but yeah, not going to happen. By the time these kids that are about to start 5th grade are gearing up for their second semester of 10th grade, th...

Somewhere my count of the days has gotten off. When I first titled this blog entry I had it listed as Day 220. I just checked it (with the help of Excel) and see that it's been (only?) 218 days since Damian died.  I'll have to check my earlier posts to see where it went wrong. Well, I know where it went wrong. That was sometime late the night of December 10th or early the following morning. I don't know when exactly Damian died, but at this point it doesn't matter. Not really. It wouldn't make any difference one way or the other. Gone is still gone.  Time has made a difference though. I'm finding it easier to talk to people about Damian. Sharing stories, memories. The sting that I used to feel is mostly gone but I'm fairly certain this is somewhat situational, based on who I'm talking to. I'm comfortable sharing with people that I'm close to but have not tested it yet with strangers. Up to this point, I just haven't felt compelled to share th...

Last week was long and lonely. Dawn was, and still is, out of town visiting her parents. I felt very isolated. Alone. I rarely left the house. So of course my mind went to some dark places, lines of thought that I can best describe as "unhealthy".  If not for the Lexapro I'm on, I wonder how bad it would have gotten. I am very thankful right now that I'm taking it. Another point for Andrea for recommending it.  One of the places that my brain went was why I don't have more friends. I feel like I can count on one hand the number of true friends that I have; two (hands) if I'm being generous. After that, everybody I know feels like more of an acquaintance - people that I'm comfortable being around but don't actively socialize with unless our paths happen to cross. I feel like I get along with people when I'm around them, but that very few people actively seek me out. My phone rarely rings with an invitation to do, well, anything. I don't know why...

I was bored this afternoon so spent a few minutes scrolling through Dawn's Facebook page. When I first opened it up, there was a picture from 10 years ago today of me and Damian at the 4th of July parade in Cumming, GA. Until I saw the picture I had forgotten all about this 4th of July tradition of ours. The three of us – me, Dawn and Damian – went to the parade for two or three years in a row. The big draw was the steam tractors. Damian loved them. He was going through his tractor phase at the time and was just enthralled by the sights and sounds of the big, noisy, mechanical beasts. I enjoyed them, too. It was pretty cool seeing something so big lumbering along knowing that it was powered only by boiling water. And man were they loud. The steam whistles could pierce right through you. After the first year, we were better prepared and brought ear plugs.  Damian was a little boy during the years we attended the 4th of July parade. It was fun and rewarding watching him grow, from ba...

It's the 3rd of July and I have no desire to celebrate anything. Dawn left me (again!) this morning. Another trip to Iowa to visit her parents. And she's going to a thing next Saturday for a close friend in Omaha. She won't be back home until the 16th. 2 weeks (!) I'll be home alone. My monkey brain is going to have a field day... Last week I started thinking about the 2nd half of 2022. Now that we are past the halfway point, I'm starting to feel the pull of the holidays. I know how fast the time will go. It will be that much faster than last year, which was just that much fast than the year before. I spoke to Dawn about it the other day. I said that I might want pecan pie for Thanksgiving. To which she replied, "I'm not going to celebrate the holidays this year." After a moment's reflection she modified her declaration by adding, "Well, I'll probably be ok with Thanksgiving, but I'm probably never going to celebrate Christmas again....

Dawn and I are back from our cruise to Alaska. We got home yesterday afternoon after an uneventful flight from Seattle.  The trip was great in terms of the sightseeing. Lots of exotic wildlife (e.g., whales, seals, eagles, bear etc.), majestic mountain ranges, breathtaking waterfalls, glaciers and a bajillion pine trees. Alaska is a truly amazing place. We are already talking about going back to see more of it. If we do go back, we will tour it from land rather than by cruise ship. Seeing what we did from the water was cool, but having done it once I don't think I will feel the need to do it again. At least not on a ship that large. Maybe something half to a third the size of the behemoth we were on...and a lot fewer people. Not that we have to worry about this any time soon. It will take six months of work to pay off this trip... We had two days during out trip where we were 'at sea' all day – day 2 (Saturday) and day 5 (Wednesday). On both days, I rarely saw land. If I di...

I've come to the point in my journey with grief where I feel that I no longer need to write about it every day. Rather than run the risk of treading over old ground, which I know that I've done already, I'm going to dial down the cadence. I will post at least one entry every seven days, but if I feel so inclined I may post more than once in any given week.  Having said that, I may not be able to satisfy this pledge while Dawn and I are on our Alaskan cruise, which begins this Friday, as we are unlikely to have Internet access onboard the ship.  While I'm looking forward to our trip to Alaska, I know that it will be bittersweet without Damian. It's been this way for all of the trips that we've taken since he left us so there is no reason to expect Alaska to be any different. I will still enjoy myself, but there will always be that cloud that hangs over me, sometimes larger and more opaque, other times smaller and more translucent. The ebb and the flow... I'm ...

Dear Reader,   Throughout this post I speak in the first person using “I” and “me”. I do this not to exclude Dawn, my loving wife of 29 years, but because I want to speak for me, not her. Dawn has her own amazing voice; I don’t want to assume that she shares my same perceptions, recollections and feelings related to the event described below...    At 8:03AM on Saturday, December 11, 2021, six months ago today, my world unexpectedly shattered. It was at this moment that I walked into my shop in the basement of our house and discovered the lifeless body of our 15 year old son Damian. I knew in an instant that he was gone, beyond saving. My grief and terror were sudden and emotionally violent. Over the ensuing days, weeks and months, I have worked hard to build a new life, one that resembles my life from the Before but feels very different. In my new life, here in the After, there is a huge piece of my old life that is missing – it is a hole that cannot be plugged. An overwh...

Some days are harder than others. This afternoon has been really rough for Dawn. It started when we popped out at lunch to run some errands.  Our first stop was the Post Office. After dropping off a package, a guy approached Dawn and asked, "What kind of boat do you have?" He had seen the nautical-themed vanity plate on Dawn's car along with the bumper magnet with the sailing club's name and logo. Caught off guard, Dawn didn't know how to answer other than to say that we were between boats now but that I had sailed on a Melges 24 last year. (It's a type of racing sailboat.) With the benefit of a few minutes to process the exchange Dawn told me that she wished she had told the guy that Damian had been the skipper of Pyg.  This has been eating at Dawn ever since. She's feels guilty for not thinking of Damian in the moment. I understand the feeling but can also see the logic of why she responded the way she did. She was caught off guard by someone she didn...