Goodbye 2008 and Hello 2009!!

This picture made me laugh hard. This 'pursed lips' face is a look Tyler and I often gave each other. I think I started it, but he picked it up quickly...and no, it has nothing to do with "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis??" The other thing I noticed about this photo is the fact that his eyes are closed just a little too much. That feature is not part of the true 'pursed lips' face. The eyes should be squinty, but not to this degree. I think in this case the problem is a direct result of the amount of libation consumed. After all, this was taken on some New Year's Eve. Given the fact that Ty is wearing that hat and the rainbow lei, I'd say the party was well underway and he was well into that bottle of...whatever it was.

2008 was quite a year for many of us. For me it was full of extreme lows and extreme highs. I started the year in a depression, feeling fairly lost in my world. After some work on myself, I finally found my groove with living here in Southern California. I had a short-lived relationship that taught me many lessons about what I don't want in a relationship. I met some 'friends' who taught me about what friendship is not and I made some really good friends. I fell in love with my sweetheart and I continue to fall deeper every day. She is definitely the highest of my highs this year. I also found out that my brother, my best friend, had a tumor at the base of his brain and I lost him in less than a month from that moment. None of us thought for a second that it would end that way. For that reason alone, I say good riddance to 2008! I am forever changed by the experience of losing Tyler. There is a permanent scar on my heart and soul. All I can do is keep going, live the best life I can, be the best person I can, treat others with respect and hope for the same in return. I see big changes for me in 2009; exciting opportunities. Some will be created by me and some will find me if I open myself to them. I'll always be thinking of Tyler and how he supported me, how proud of me he was. I want to continue to make you proud, little brother. I just wish you could be here with me, in the physical realm. Keep watching...there are great things to come!

Random...

This picture was taken back in the early 90s. I'm not sure where it was taken, but it was Tyler's friend, Mike, who pulled it from the archives. I think it's cool in a 'I look like a young Harry Connick Jr.' kind of way. I'm not too keen on the cigarette in his hand, but I too was a smoker, once upon a time. It's not a very attractive habit, but highly addictive. I digress...I didn't come here to talk about the dangers of smoking and I'm not after the Surgeon General's job.

I don't have anything in particular to say tonight. I really just wanted to share this photo. I miss my baby brother. Today I was thinking about how sad I am that he won't get to experience 2009. I think it will be a year full of possibilities for me, and I hate that I won't be able to share the joys and the frustrations with him. I'm sad that he won't be turning 37 on January 21st. He will forever be 36 in my mind. I won't get to see him get married, have children and grow old gracefully. I know I will want to do something that day to celebrate his life and I hope somehow, on some level, he will be a witness to that.

Peace and love, brother of mine.

A moment

This is another picture from Christmas 2007. Tyler had been recording video on his little point-and-shoot camera and we were looking at it. At the time, it was just a goofy thing we were doing for entertainment between hanging ornaments on the tree and taking sips of wine. I found those videos on his computer after he passed and they are now very precious to me. It's funny that something could seem so trivial in one moment, and then later become so significant it reduces me to rubble in an instant.

I had another moment like that last night. My love and I were watching The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. There's a scene toward the end where Peter has a sword fight with the evil king in an attempt to avoid a full-on battle between their armies. At one point they take a break from their fight and Peter is talking with his brother Edmund. He is trying to tell Edmund something just in case he doesn't emerge as the victor, and Edmund cuts him off and says, "You can tell me later." He then sends Peter back into the fight, confident that he will win. This moment was huge trigger for me and I started to cry. It reminded me of the morning of Tyler's surgery. He was telling me things he wanted me to know just in case he didn't make it through the surgery. I told him it wouldn't matter because he would be fine. I was so sure he would emerge as the victor in his fight. I know I said I had no regrets regarding him, but I guess I found one. Obviously I had no way of knowing the final outcome...and I know that. In hindsight I wish I'd let him finish. I wish I'd remained silent and listened to him talk.

Christmas 2008

I wish I could say this photo was taken today. This was taken about 3 days before Christmas last year. I found it on my Dad's computer tonight and decided to share it with you. I love the warm tone of the photo and the memory of the warmth of Tyler's arm around my shoulder.

We had our holiday gathering at Dad and Ginny's house this year and a good time was had by all...all 45 of us!! We had good wine, LOTS of good food, good coversation...more wine. Martine, Ali, Chuck and I sang a few songs for the group, and everyone joined us in a few carols as well. We all missed Mabel, Katherine, Larry and Tyler very much, but I know there were with us today. I imagined giving them each a hug and a smile as they arrived. I imagined hanging on to Tyler and giving him a big kiss on the cheek as he groaned in mock disgust. It was all nice to imagine, but it's not as good as the real thing. The missing will always be there, but they are forever with us, in our hearts.

What I've lost...

This is Tyler at the corner of Oregon and Indiana Streets. It's quite humorous considering we were both born in Portland, Oregon and then, at the ages of 12 and 10, we were forced to move to Indiana. (It was traumatic, to say the least!) :-) Tyler sent this photo to his friend, Mike, one summer when he was staying with our dad in Oregon. Mike recently resurrected it and posted it on Flickr for the world to see. No, the Mercedes didn't belong to him...it was our dad's car.

Tonight I was going through a keepsake box that I had in the closet. I bought a new photo box and I wanted to relocate the memories from one box to the other. I found some cards that Tyler had given me for my birthdays or for Christmas over the years. I also found some photos of him that I had not seen in a while. Needless to say, I cried my eyes out.

I found a birthday card that I wanted to share it with you. I won't bore you with the canned Hallmark verbage. The following is what Tyler wrote....

"I have all sorts of ideas of what to get you for your birthday. The thing that sucks is I can't afford any of them. No pity, please. So, I figured money to get what you want was the best idea. Well another year has gone by and I am still 'giddy' like a little boy to have a big sister like you. I just hope that, in this lifetime, I can be there for your as many times as you've been there for me. Not that I feel I owe you; I just want you to feel as special as I do to have you."

You were there for me, Tyler, any time I needed you. I do feel special and very lucky to have had a brother like you. Your card reminds me of just how much I've lost.

The Right Path

The engraving on this ornament is a little hard to read, but most of you can probably make it out. For those who can't, I know a good Optometrist...just kidding, of course. It reads "Tyler 2001." I had been playing with the settings on my camera phone and took this photo at some point during my experimentation. Someone said to me that it looks like it's all washed in gold, or something to that effect. I can't remember the exact words, but what a great description. We decorated the Christmas tree at my dad and Ginny's house on Saturday night. At one point I left the room to answer the call of nature and when I returned, my dad was holding this ornament. He wanted me to hang it on the tree. I remember handing the same ornament to Tyler last year and then we each put our own 2001 engraved ornament on the tree. This year I had to hang them both. The sadness is often overwhelming and this was one of those moments when it literally took my breath.

My emotions were all over the map this weekend. Last night it came to a head when I behaved like an ass to someone I love deeply. It was a moment, yes, and we all have moments of shitheadedness, but that is still no excuse. I know some of my past experiences have influenced the way I react to things in the present. I think that's inevitable. We are made up of a fabric, woven from our experiences. However, some of that is old, ugly stuff that we should never wear again. Stuff that needs to be left behind at some random airport or dropped off at the nearest Good Will. I only want to carry forward the important lessons and the growth...the things that fit well and look good on me. At this point in my life I am more aware than ever when I'm being influenced by something that doesn't belong. I see that as progress and positive growth. I do wonder how much my grief over Tyler is an influence on my interactions with the people around me. Losing him has shaken me to my core. I will never be the same and I will never fully stop grieving, but I want to be a better person. I don't want to be an icky, bitter person. Tyler wouldn't want that for me either.

I miss you, Tyler. There were many times when you helped me find my way back to the right path. I need you to keep doing that. Just smack me in the back of the head or something, would ya? Love you always...

Christmas is coming...

Christmas is coming, no matter how much I try to deny it. Honestly, I just want to skip it this year. Why? One reason and one reason only...it won't look like this picture. Granted, the picture is blurry and Tyler has some serious red-eye going on, but it captures the feeling of that night. It was the Friday before Christmas, 2007. We were decorating the tree, drinking wine, joking with each other and just being together. Notice the LARGE stocking on the right; hard to miss, I know. Our mom helped Tyler make that stocking as payback to a joke we played on him. For Christmas 2006, we had hung the stockings with care, but the one we put up for Tyler was tiny. So, this HUGE stocking was his way of saying 'I'm not tiny and therefore, I will not have a tiny stocking!' We all got a big laugh out of it. Tyler always had a knack for making us laugh and forget our troubles.

I was looking at Christmas cards a few days ago, just like every year around this time, and I had another moment of realization. I wouldn't be buying a card for Tyler this year. Every year we would buy each other the sappiest brother/sister card we could find, but the great thing about it is, we always meant every word. I know I've said this before, but I'm going to miss getting that sappy card from him this year...every year. Mostly I'm going to miss having him standing next to me in front of the fire, laughing at unspoken jokes between us and toasting the great things to come.

To my brother, my friend...

Thank you for the laughter and the tears...
For the talks and the silence.
Thank you for being you and for loving me, unconditionally.
Though I miss you with every passing moment, you will always be with me...
For that, I am eternally grateful.
Happy Christmas and Merry New Year, little bro.

With every bit of a big sister's BIG love,
D

The Journey

I know this picture is a little grainy and it's hard to make out the detail, but I think it captures Tyler's energy and hunger for living. Thanks to Mike White for pulling it from his archives.

Tyler died way too young. No one can dispute that. While he was alive, he lived his life to the fullest. He did many things I have yet to attempt...

Water skiing
* Well, I did try water skiing once when I was about 16. Tyler was there too. I think he was holding that little red flag up in the air every time I fell in the water. His arm got tired...
Snowboarding
* Ummmm...he was good at snowboarding because he was a skateboarding fiend in middle school. I think I'll stick to snow skiing. It seems safer to me. I don't want to break anything or kill anyone. I fear I would become a flying projectile on a snowboard.
Scuba Diving
* Tyler learned how to scuba dive when he went to Australia with the Giedt clan. Everyone went but me. I had to work. When you're assistant manager at a retail store, you don't take off the week of Christmas! We did go snorkeling when we were in Maui. That was ok, except I kept looking for SHARKS and that took away from the relaxing portion of the experience. Hmmm... maybe a submarine with a glass bottom would suit me better. ;-)
Sailing
* He went sailing through Greece and Turkey with our dad when he was in high school. I wasn't invited in this case because they know I have a bit of an issue with motion sickness. I know it was a great experience for him and I envy him that, but it probably would have left me a little green around the gills.
Whitewater Rafting
* I know Tyler did this a few times, most recently in Fiji. I'm not sure why I've never been. I love kayaking or canoeing down a lazy river...I emphasize the word LAZY. A rushing river is a whole different thing. I think I'm ready to try this adventure though.

He has been many places I have yet to see...

Paris
London
Greece
Turkey
Australia (I'm happy to say I'm GOING to see this one next year with the woman I love!)
Fiji

I've grown tremendously as an individual over the last two and a half years, but losing my baby brother has inspired me to kick it up a notch in terms of living. Life isn't something that happens as you sit back and watch it go by, although many people live that way. I did it for a time and I think Tyler did too. I made changes in my life to get out of the rut I was in and I know Tyler wanted to do the same. Unfortunately he didn't get quite get there. That makes me sad. Every day I continue my quest for a fulfilling and meaningful life, and now I take him with me on my journey. He will be with me wherever I go. That makes me smile.

A sister's ponderings

This is a picture I took in Sedona, Arizona last year. I would have put up a picture of Tyler, but they are all on my hard drive at home and I'm still at work. Tyler always had an affinity for Arizona. He talked a lot about moving there. We're planning on spreading his ashes somewhere in the desert state, but haven't settled on an exact location or date yet. Hopefully that will be worked out soon. I don't really know if it's called the desert state; I just made that up. When I visit my Aunt Esther in Phoenix, it feels like the desert, but Sedona is very different. It all about the elevation, I suppose.

Today was a difficult day. I received something in the mail; something we ordered. It is the season of giving, after all. I can't really tell you what I received because...well, some people who might be receiving the forementioned something, might also be reading this blog. Anyway, this 'something' reminded me of Tyler and the flood gates opened up again. I managed to close them before I had a really good cry and that's probably not a good thing. They opened up again later, at work, also not a good thing. I was going back through my Facebook inbox. For some reason I thought maybe there was a message I should have responded to, but hadn't yet. While I was scanning through the messages, I saw Tyler's name. I opened the thread and read the messages we had written to each other between September 30th and October 5th. We were just chatting about what we had both been doing and Tyler had mentioned the possibility of needing to have sinus surgery. He was having a problem that we now know was probably related to the tumor in the back of his neck. I remember being mildly concerned about the prospect of surgey, but wanting to know more details. He told me he was going back to the doctor and that he would let me know the outcome. That was October 5th, five days before he passed out at work and was sent to the hospital. Many thoughts keep jumping into my head. Should I have encouraged him to be more proactive with the doctors? Should I have asked him more questions about the problems he was having? What more could I have done and could it have changed the final outcome??? I will never know and that's a little maddening at times.

I know there's nothing that can be done to bring him back, but I often wonder if there should be an investigation into what the hell happened? The surgery went very well and he was recovering well initially. I still have to wonder if someone screwed up somewhere along the way. This is just me channeling my ponderings into the words you're reading. Maybe I should think on it a bit more. I'll get back to you...

Spilling over and crashing down

I hate to sound like a broken record, but I'm going to talk about grief again. Consider yourself warned. Stop reading now if you must........I'll wait while you close your browser......

I haven't been crying as much lately. I had been deliberately thinking about Tyler and making myself cry, but I've stopped doing that. Maybe it's temporary. Maybe it's all the distractions that happen during the holidays. Who knows? Since then I've noticed that the grief keeps welling up. It's right there, just under the surface. The slightest brush against my skin causes it to spill out all over me and potentially crash into everything around me. It doesn't take much to trigger it. I guess that means I need to be more conscious about actively grieving. I just wish I knew how to do that. Is the conscious pushing out better than the eventual building and overflow? I don't have the answers.

I finally came out of my avoidance mode regarding the impending gift-giving season and did some shopping yesterday. I guess somewhere in my mind I'm thinking if I ignore Christmas, maybe it won't come and maybe the missing won't be so present. I sat with Martine today and made Christmas cards. Again, the fact that he won't be there this year weighed heavily on my mind. Let me tell you, it takes the cheer right out of my 'ho, ho, ho.' (Sorry; I felt the need to inject a little humor in there. Tyler would have appreciated it.) I'm drinking coffee mixed with egg nog right now, trying to get into holiday mode. There's something missing though. Hmmm...maybe it needs a shot of rum or bourbon. Some spirits to bring out my holiday spirit. ;-)

I digress. Many people have told me I should continue to talk to Tyler. Some have lost loved ones and some just believe that life energy is still present in some form after the physical presence is gone. It's hard to know what is the truth. I think it's probably different for everyone. The blanket truth is black & white. In other words, there are things that are either fact or fiction. People can try to deny this kind of truth, but the fact remains. Then there's the truth we all find for ourselves in our individual journeys through life. I think each of us will continue to learn that truth until death...and maybe beyond. Part of my truth is believing that if and when I feel like talking to Tyler, he will somehow hear me. Maybe that's silly and maybe it's not. It's my choice, my truth.

He Shines...

Ever since Tyler passed, I've been contacted by various people he knew who are wanting to share their 'Tyler experience' with me. There are common themes in all their stories. One is how much he loved me, his big sister. Tyler and I were very fortunate in our relationship for many reasons, but the most important was we always knew how significant we were to each other. There were never any doubts on either side. He was such an incredible source of light in my life. If you're reading this and you have siblings that you're not really close with, but you wish you could be closer, don't wait for tomorrow. Make the effort today.

Another common theme is how kind and thoughtful Tyler was. I heard from the younger brother of a good friend of mine from high school. Their family lived around the corner from us for several years. I did not know the impact Tyler had on Chris until he shared some thoughts he had after Tyler passed away. He's two years younger than Ty and we all know that can be a huge gap in high school. Chris felt like Tyler treated him as an equal, in spite of the age difference. He said Ty was both and mentor and friend. Chris has a deep passion for photography and he told me Tyler was the person who first sparked that interest. I could go on in my own words, but I think it's best to let his words take it from here...

"Whenever we would run into each other, it was like no time had passed...always joking, always laughing. You don't know how much people influence your life until you take stock of how you've become the person you are. Tyler did that for me. He really made me realize that life is so short and we have to be ourselves every minute, with no time for hate and regret. I am truly grateful that I got to know Tyler over the years. He was a unique, caring, funny and thoughtful individual."

My mom told me recently that every time she and Ron see a sunset now, they think of Tyler smiling down on them. It's a perfect analogy, really. He was a great source of beauty and light for many in life, and we continue to feel his energy and warmth long after his life faded.

Tyler and the Moon. Moons, that is...

This picture was taken a few years ago at my mom and stepdad's house in Northbrook, Illinois. All the Moon women were in town from Canada. Aunt Judy, Aunt Patty and Grammy Moon. My niece and nephew, Mika and Riley, are pictured here as well. They are much older and taller now. Then of course there's me, my mom and Tyler. It's not the greatest photo. Unfortunately it seems that the orange and blue sippy cup is the focal point, but it (the photo, not the cup) tells a story of family and generations.

The night Tyler passed away, my aunts and grandmother came to say goodbye. I watched them all lean over him and whisper to him through their tears. My grandmother hugged me and said "Oh Didi, this is so horrible..." That pretty much summed up how we were all feeling. I remember my aunts both telling me they were sorry we hadn't spent more time together. I told them it happens when there's significant geographical distance involved, but the love is always there, regardless of the distance.

Tyler and I used to go to Edmonton every year to visit our grandmother. I remember walking to the 7-Eleven to get Aero bars, Coffee Crisp, Smarties...all the candy they didn't sell in the states. Then we would sit and watch Benny Hill or Monty Python and laugh as we ate our candy. We did that again in August of this year when we went to help Grandma move. Well...we didn't watch those shows, but we ate the candy. Instead of watching the tele, we sat out on the porch and watched it rain. I was excited about the rain because I hardly see it in SoCal, so Tyler obliged and joined me. We talked about life and love, and reminisced about those summers spent at Grandma's house. I'm going to miss those talks with him, but I'll laugh every time I think about us giggling over Benny Hill's slapstick antics.

The Energy of Grief

I love this photo. We have a 5x7 of it up on the new 'photo wall' in the apartment. I look at it every day and think about what a beautiful man he was, inside and out. Neicco, the beagle, is pretty cute too. He doesn't seem to mind being used as a pillow. What a good dog.

Tonight we went to see "Australia" with my dad, Ginny, Jane and Sharon. It was a good movie. A little 'cheesy' at times, but a little cheese can be good for a laugh or a chin quiver. Afterward we went for a post-movie margarita and then to dinner at a Thai restaurant. We had a good time, but I became aware of something over the course of the night. Since Tyler passed away, when I'm around my dad or my mom, the void Tyler left behind feels even bigger. I didn't think that was possible, but it's true. I don't know if it's the sadness I see in my dad's eyes, the devastation I hear in my mom's voice, or something to do with the combining of our individual grief energy when I interact with either one of them. Of course I still want to spend time with them; I think it's very important that we support each other through the grieving. I love them and my step-parents very much. My realization in no way means that I don't want to be around them. It's just something I observed, or felt, or...experienced. Maybe it's just me being more aware of my grief in the presence of my parents. I'm not sure I can explain it any better than that.

I miss you more every day, Ty. I know our parents (all four of them) do too. Each of us is floundering around, trying to cope with losing you. Writing this blog is part of my process. The other parts? Who knows. I'm making those up as I go along. It has been a month since you left us and it still hurts like hell. If you have any brotherly advice for me, send it along. I'll be listening...

The Goof and His Words

This was taken at a Sallie Mae Christmas party. Of course Tyler was being his usual goofy self. I wasn't at this party, but I've been to many like it. There would be food, drink, general merriment and a white elephant gift exchange. Usually that means everyone brings a gift with a monetary value of no more than $15.00 and it has to be something that NOBODY would ever want! Then you draw numbers to determine the order in which people get to choose a gift. Any gift in your possession can be stolen by anyone with a number greater than yours, but a given item can only be stolen three times. Whomever steals it the third time gets to keep it. Most people have a hard time picking out horrible gifts, so there are usually a few desirable ones in the mix. Those are the ones we all try to get. It looks like Tyler finally got something good in this shot...chocolate and caramel covered popcorn. Yum!!! I guess he decided to eat it before anyone could steal it from him. Of course the more alcohol that flows into the group, the more the competition ramps up!

I can't imagine this Christmas without Tyler. He was going to be joining us here in Southern California for our Christmas gathering of 45 people, give or take a few. There are others we will miss this year too...Mabel, Larry and Katherine. I know there will be plenty of laughter and love in the space, but there will be the heaviness of the missing hanging over all of us. Life may not be eternal, but love most definitely is...

Yesterday we were going through boxes and organizing things at home, and I found a birthday card Tyler had given me in 2006. It was right before I moved to California. The cards he gave me, for any occasion, always made me cry because he never held anything back. The card I found yesterday is no exception. He wrote the following on the inside:

"I'll miss seeing you almost every day, but I'm happy you're starting a new chapter in your life. I hope you find something out there that makes you happy to go to work and offers growth to a new level of existence. I'm proud of you for having the courage to do what you're doing. I love you! - Ty"

I was deeply touched by those words and I'm going to miss the words he would have written to me in the future; the ones I'll never read. I love you, Tyler.

I think I can, I think I can, I know I can...

We went to Maui with our mom and step-dad in February 2005. We had many adventures that included snorkeling, whale-watching, sight-seeing from a helicopter and driving a VERY narrow road that required us to honk before rounding the sharp corners...just in case someone was coming the other way. Tyler decided he also wanted to take a surfing lesson, so of course we all went to watch. I stood on the rocks with my Nikon and took pictures of him with the zoom lens. This picture is characteristic of Tyler's personality. Nothing is too hard and everything is possible. He always had lofty goals for himself and I knew he could do whatever he wanted to do. It makes me sad when I think about the fact that he won't be able to do the things I know he still wanted to do. It makes me wonder if he wasn't meant for a much higher purpose. I'll never know, but I will continue to wonder.

Every person who knew Tyler was deeply affected by his presence. Those who knew him well, those who knew him in passing and all those in between. I received an email today from a friend of his. She says she wasn't a really close friend, but in the short amount of time they spent together, she felt a connection to him. She told me a story about having an extra ticket to a Poison/Skid Row concert the day of the show and calling everyone she knew get someone to go. Tyler said yes. I know he was not going for the musical experience, but she still laughs when she thinks about him knowing most, if not all, of the words to Skid Row's "I Remember You." They had a few good talks after that, but this is the part she really wanted to share with me. She lost a really close friend to cancer (a neck tumor) several years ago. This was someone she considered the sister she never had. She spent some time talking with Tyler about that loss. She remembers that he expressed how he could not imagine his life without me in it. I had said the same thing to my step-mother this past summer when her brother passed away. I told her I could not comprehend the devastation I would feel if I lost Tyler. Those words still echo in my head. I never imagined...

This friend of Tyler's said something else that really struck me. In reference to the grief around the loss of her friend she said, "it's like standing outside looking through this distorted bubble, just watching life happen inside. It's all cloudy and nothing is shaped right; nothing makes sense." That is so descriptive of how I feel a lot of the time since Tyler's death. You know who you are and I thank you for being open to sharing your experience.

Surreal...

This picture was taken in Edmonton Alberta this past August. Ty and I had driven through this neighborhood because we got a little lost driving from our grandmother's new apartment to her house. As we're coming around this bend in the road, we noticed the view and decided to pull over and take some photos. We had a good time taking pictures of each other and evaluating whether they were worthy of anyone else's scrutiny. The clouds were surreal and they looked even more surreal against the downtown Edmonton skyline. You know that feeling you get when something seems surreal?

Watching the life leave Tyler's body was the most surreal experience of my life. The grieving that goes along with losing him is also a very surreal experience. I'm still trying to figure out how to go about it. This isn't the first time I've lost someone in my family. Aside from Tyler, three people I cared about died this year. I've also lost a couple of uncles and a grandfather. I know crying is good and I've been doing a lot of that. I have shed tears for all those losses and occasionally still do, but this feels different. I'm still having trouble accepting the fact that Tyler is gone. This morning, sitting in Chicago's Midway airport, I looked up and saw some guy waiting in line to board his flight. Something about him reminded me so much of Tyler that I actually had an 'oh, there he is!' moment. Then that moment turned to a sick feeling in my stomach when I realized the man I saw couldn't possibly be Tyler because Tyler is...dead. I actually felt dizzy for a second and I thought I might be sick. I have so many moments when I feel like I don't know what to do with my emotions. I don't know where to put them. Martine's friend, Jemma, emailed me and suggested I get a book called "On Death and Dying" by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. I plan to pick up a copy this week. I'm not sure if it will help, but it has helped other people and I'm willing to try just about anything. Thanks, Jemma, for reaching out. Someone else recently said to me, "Tyler would not want you to be in so much pain." I know, I know...you're right.

To sleep, perchance to dream

This is Tyler sleeping in a chair at our dad's house in Medford, Oregon. I think he was about 16 or 17 in this picture. So cute and so peaceful. He looked similar the night he died, a little older and a little wiser, but at peace...finally.

I still feel like I'm being punched in the stomach when I think about the fact that he's really gone. I don't know how long that will last. Hopefully it will lessen over time. I'll always miss him more than I can say, but maybe, eventually, it won't hurt so much. Some nights I dream about him. We're not doing anything in particular, just hanging out together. When I wake up, the realization that he's gone hits even harder. He was just here with me, laughing and joking, being the smart ass I know and love. What happened? I just want to keep on dreaming.

We're planning a trip to Arizona to scatter Tyler's ashes. He had wanted to move there for years, so we're going to take him there. That will be another in a long line of difficult moments. It will be like saying goodbye to him...again...and I'm really tired of saying that. At least he will finally be where he wanted be and that gives me a little bit of happiness.