Shattered Glass

I'm going on a business trip tomorrow. My first since Damian died. It will be short. I leave tomorrow for a meeting Thursday morning. If all goes according to plan, I should be home in time for dinner on Thursday. The worst part of this trip is that I will once again be forced to wear pants. I know, first world problems and all that. But still, I hate wearing pants.  I went on a lot of business trips during Damian's life. Fortunately for most of them I was gone only 2 or 3 days at a stretch and almost never over a weekend. As such, I was able to attend most of Damian's school functions. What I did miss out on was whatever drama was happening in our neighborhood at the time. During several of my trips, police, emergency services or the fire department paid a visit to our street.   One morning, a Korean neighbor knocked on our door and tried to convey to Dawn that something was wrong. Unable to get her point across verbally, she all but pulled Dawn outside and around t...

I just got back home from seeing the sequel to Top Gun. It was ok. Once again, Tom Cruise saves the day. Predictable.  What stands out for me is not the movie but the theater where I saw it. Movie Tavern is probably 10 years old. Prior to being a movie theater, the building was home to a Publix grocery store. I remember when Movie Tavern first opened. Dine-in theaters were all the rage at the time. Waiters would come and take your order at your seat – everything from standard movie fair to full fledged meals. And they served liquor which at the time they opened had some appeal.  The first time that the three of us went to Movie Tavern Damian was probably seven. I have no idea what we saw. It may have been the first Despicable Me or one of the Cars movies; Damian loved both of them. As we walked into the theater, I noticed that all the chairs were oversized recliners with a tray table attached to each one. On the end of the tray table closest to the pivot point (attached to the...

Had a nice dinner tonight with John and Rachel. It was good to see them. We are only fifteen minutes from each other, but given how infrequently we get together you would think we lived much further apart.  Talking tonight at dinner, I was struck by the casualness with which Dawn and I are able to tell anecdotes that center on Damian. Anyone not familiar with how recently all this started for us would, I'm sure, assume after listening to us talk that Damian had died at least two or three years ago. Definitely not last December.  There is a hint of guilt in writing that these words. Not strong or overpowering, just a vague sense of it. Like my brain is asking if I should feel guilty because it doesn't know the right answer.  There was one moment during dinner where I stumbled slightly. Dawn caught it and asked me if I was alright. I told her yes, which was honest. It had passed quickly and wasn't overwhelming. The thought or emotion that I had I'm familiar. It's the ...

Dawn and I just watched episode 1, season 4 of Stranger Things (ST). ST was one of Damian's favorite shows. At least the first season or two. I'm not sure how much he was still into it as his taste in television and movies was definitely maturing. He really liked Game of Thrones, save for the last season, and Breaking Bad. I think he was also watching Better Call Saul and Ozark. While those shows may have eclipsed ST in terms of how much he liked them, I'm sure that he would have watched this season, too.  The first episode is intense, especially the opening and closing scenes. But what caught my attention and got me to thinking about life outside of Hawkins, Indiana was the timeframe of the show. This episode finds the heroes of Hawkins in the spring semester of their freshman year of high school. The year is 1986. The year that I graduated from high school. Dawn, too.  I don't remember much from high school – my memory just isn't that good – but I do remember grad...

I miss my son. I want to talk to him. To hear his voice. I want to hear his laugh. This need or desire ebbs and flows. Sometimes, like now, the need is more acute. The sense that if I don't satisfy it somehow I will spiral downward palpable. Other times I don't think about it at all, my mind preoccupied by whatever it is that isn't thoughts of him. But now I'm thinking about Damian, wishing so hard that I could put my arms around him, tell him again that I love him and am proud of him.  Of course I can speak to him anytime that I like as though he were in the room with me, but right now that is not enough. Like a cheap parlor trick, speaking to the void is something to placate the mind and soul when in reality, it really is just a placebo. I know this feeling will pass as they always have, but that doesn't make it any less real or less painful. These are the times when I feel pain. Knowing exactly what I want and also knowing that it's something that I can't...

This week would have marked the end of 10th grade for Damian. The last day of school for Lakeview was Tuesday. Had I never left the Before, I would have seen it as another year of high school accomplished. The three of us would probably be going somewhere nice for dinner tonight or tomorrow to celebrate. Here in the After, I am wrapping up a long week of work trying not to dwell too much on what could – should? – have been: two more years of high school and then off to college where the real fun begins. It makes me sad thinking about it now. The promise of an incredible future erased. Gone.  I'm vulnerable tonight to these darker thoughts. It's been a long couple of weeks of work. As of late this afternoon, the cause for my long hours and late nights is now over. At least for a few days, until the next deadline presents itself. The release of tension and anxiety that comes form getting through, over, or past the present challenge has given my brain the time and permission to ro...

The numbers tell the story: 21 people are dead, 19 of them children. 42 moms and dads whose lives were shattered the instant the gunman's bullet found its mark and took the life of their child. 164 grandparents and an untold number of siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends all gut punched because an 18 year old with access to weapons and ammunition decided for whatever reason that he needed to kill little kids. And what better place to find them than in a school.  My heart goes out to all of them, but especially the parents. While the circumstances of Damian's death are drastically different than yesterday's senseless barbarism, the fact remains that Dawn and I know all too well the acute grief that comes from losing a child. Their journey in the After has just begun. Their time with grief will be long and painful. With the passing of time, it may become less so, but now is not the time to look into the future. They must live in the now as the trauma of yesterday enve...