Headstone

This week has been full of emotions.  This week has probably been as hard as the first few weeks without Taylor.  The difference was this week I wasn’t numb.

Those first days and weeks following Taylor’s death, I was kind of numb.  I went through the motions but it all felt like a dream.  I walked through the days doing what was expected of me never really seeing, feeling or hearing what was going on.  Friends, family, and my loving Heavenly Father filled our home each and every day with love and comfort and in a sense I felt it, but the reality of it was I wasn’t even there.  I know that that was my body’s way of coping with all that was going on and keeping me from having my own padded cell in the psych ward.  But a lot of that first week after losing Taylor is a blur of fuzzy memories.

This week we were finally able to meet with a friend of my brothers to plan out and design Taylor’s headstone.  This is something that I have felt like we needed to do for some time, but our circumstances didn’t warrant us the ability to do it.  So I was grateful that we were finally able to get this process started for Taylor.  The hard part was that this is one of the final things that we have to do for Taylor.  This makes it all real in the earthly sense.  I didn’t realize how emotionally hard this was going to be.  Not only is this the means to an end but it is also a living monument to my son, something that is going to live on this earth longer than me.  That overwhelmed me.  I can’t mess this up.  This is it.  I have to make sure this represents all that was my son so that anyone walking by his headstone will know this is Taylor and this is who he was.  How do you put on a stone all that one man is?  He was smart, funny, kind, compassionate, loving, thoughtful, witty, talented, spiritual, and athletic, he loved deeply and passionately.  How do you put all of that into a headstone? 

I spent most of the day Wednesday pouring over photos of Taylor.  Looking at his smile, and looking at pictures from vacations and competitions that filled me with so much sadness,  sadness because we were never going to be able to experience and see him do these things again.  The hurt was almost unbearable. 

On Thursday I woke up realizing that tonight was the night, the night that I had to start the process.  All the emotions and feelings that I felt during that first week flooded back the immense loss, the shock the fear, and the panic.  I bawled all the way home from work.  Could I really do this?  How was I going to get through this meeting without losing it?  I had to pull myself together.  I didn’t do a very good job of it though.  I was so anxious that I took my fears and sadness out on Paul and Morgan but as usual they left me vent and be frustrated and they stayed calm and remained the strong ones.  I knew that they were both hurting as much about this as I was but they were the rocks that kept me together.   When we got to my brothers house I felt like I was walking into the mortuary all over again getting ready to plan Taylor’s final arrangements.  My stomach was so upset I had to excuse myself, just like at the mortuary.  Every word that was said, every question that was asked felt just like it did at the mortuary and just like at the mortuary I just sat there staring straight ahead trying to breathe and keep it together while Paul and Morgan made all the decisions and laid it all out. My brother and sister-in-law were sitting at the table just like before silently giving me strength, strength that I so desperately needed.   And just like at the mortuary, I failed Taylor.  Pure and simple I wasn’t strong enough.   Once again I was an emotional wreck.  Why is it always Paul and Morgan that can hold it together?  I know Morgan is hurting so much.  Taylor was her best friend.  She is feeling so lost without him, but yet she is able to suck up the tears and make the decisions that need to be made.  Paul hurts to, he and Taylor had shared some amazing times together and he misses his son so much.  But through all their sadness they were able to put our vision across and make it be exactly what I had hoped it would be.  I kept thinking this can’t be real, I can’t be doing this.  This is just a terrible nightmare that I just want to wake up from.  I’m going to wake up and Taylor will be on the couch like he always was and I’ll tell him about my dream and he will laugh and say oh, momma you are a worry wart.  The only problem is this isn’t a sleeping nightmare; this is an eyes wide open reality nightmare.    He’s gone and he isn’t coming back.  He isn’t going to be sitting on the couch.  The other difference is that this time there isn’t family and friends filling our home with love and comfort.  There is no one here talking to us and taking our minds off the reality.  It’s just the three of us, each of us processing and dealing with this in our own way finding strength from one and other.   

The crusade of mourning Taylor isn’t over.  I’m not sure if it ever will be.  Life will never be normal again.  I just have to figure out how to make my own normal.  It’s going to be interesting trying  to find normal but  I guess I don’t have much of a choice, I’m kind of stuck on this crusade whether I want it or not.  I do know that I can’t look back.  I can’t change the past.  I have to look forward in faith and rely on Heavenly Father and my family to help me move forward. 

So once again this week I am grateful for family.  Really what would we do without them?  They bring us strength, they make us laugh, they have our backs, and they share our burdens even when they don’t really want to.  What a wonderful gift from Heavenly Father.  Families simple precious and eternal.