It's where he wanted to be...

This is me sitting on top of a beautiful red rock in Boynton Canyon (Sedona, Arizona) with the tin containing Tyler's ashes resting on my knee. Sunday, March 15, 2009, me and 10 other family members hiked up the Boynton Canyon Trail with the intention of releasing his ashes. When this photo was taken, we were all sitting, waiting for the right moment to set him free. That day was particularly hard for me, as it felt like saying goodbye all over again. All the emotions came back up to the surface. I felt like I did the day he died, and I kept seeing his face and how it looked that night in the hospital as the life left his body. It STILL doesn't seem real to me. I can sit here right now and think about the fact that I will never see him again, and it just doesn't seem possible. I cried twice in the car on the way to Sedona. I cried as I was hiking up the canyon with his ashes in my backpack. I cried as I sat on this rock, contemplating what I was about to do. 'It's where he wanted to be...," I thought to myself. He wanted to be in Arizona.

We picked Sedona for it's amazing beauty and energy, and we picked Boynton Canyon because it's the location of an energy vortex. There are 4 in Sedona. It seemed like a good final resting place for what remained of his physical being. After sitting and standing in various spots on the big red rock, I decided it was too crowded with hikers and went around to the other side of it. Everyone followed. I went out on to a flat rocky ledge with my mom and dad behind me. I could hear them crying and it broke my heart...again. My dad read aloud a quote from Tyler, "My 'church' is beside a river in the middle of a forest, or the desert at sunrise/sunset. ‘God’ talks to me when the wind blows across my body and I close my eyes, or when it starts to rain and the sounds from that fill the air." I removed the bag of ashes from the tin, tested the wind, and in three or four motions, I emptied the bag into the wind.

Martine got the whole thing on video and I will be posting that on this blog at some point. I know some of you wanted to be there and could not, so hopefully the video will make you feel like you were a part of it.

I hope he is happy with the view. It was beautiful, as was the day, as is his spirit.

Tyler - You are always with me, always in my heart, always on my mind, forever a part of my soul. I love you.

An honor to be with you...for eternity!

For those of you who don't know, this is Tyler with Connor and Suzanne Spellman. Tyler was Suzanne's birthing coach when she had Connor, and he was a significant person in both of their lives. In many ways he was a father figure to Connor. After Tyler passed away, Connor came to me with a picture taken the day he was born. It was of Tyler wearing a baseball cap with the word "COACH" embroidered across the front of it. Connor wanted to know if I would get the cap for him, so he could have it to keep. My heart broke again in that moment. Of course; Tyler would have wanted Connor to have that cap. My guess is he will always have it, just as he will always have his memories of Tyler.

The following letter was written yesterday by Suzanne and, with her permission, I'm now sharing it with the readers of this blog...

Thank you for listening to me tonight.
Thank you for letting me talk.
Thank you for letting me cry.

I am sorry that I never showed you daily how much you meant to me.
How much you meant to my daily being.
You were the first person that I thought of with triumph and tragedy.
The first person I shared my joys and tears with.
Our late night talks on the front porch or the early morning texts as we passed each other on the road.

I should have told you that you were the one for life on Sunday 10/19/08.
I should have kissed you as if tomorrow would never come.
Turns out, it didn't for us!

I am so sad for the people that will never experience YOU!
Your strength, your wisdom, your humor, your presence.

I have not changed who I am or how I am through all the tragedies and triumphs.
Am I cold? Am I weak? Am I scared?
Or did you take part of my soul with you?

I am realizing that I am not angry or sad or depressed (as many may think) while writing this.
I am happy, relieved and honored that you took a part of me to hold on to....
For eternity!

(Though I don't need to justify or explain what I have written, I must say that I am still sad, still angry for losing Tyler so quickly, so prematurely. But the empty/hollow/aching pain inside of me that burns/screams/festers daily can only be explained by knowing/hoping/wishing that Tyler needed to take a part of me with him. That he felt/understood/knew how much he truly meant to me/my son/my family)

It's been a while since I've been to this place. When I say 'this place' I'm not referring to the lovely scene behind Tyler in this photo. Although it seems like a nice place to be, especially if I could find him sitting there waiting for me. The place to which I am referring is the place of sorrow and devastation. In the time it took me to upload this photo and write those first four sentences, I've been reduced to a blubbering mess. That is what happens when I visit this place. I've been really busy going on with my life and it's going really, really well. I've very excited about the things I'm doing and the things yet to come. I know Tyler would be excited for me too. He would want me to be busy creating the life I want and enjoying every minute.

That's all well and good, but the truth is I just want him to be here so I can tell him everything. I had a dream last night and he was there. That's not so unusual, but in this particular dream he was there because he had come back to life. Everyone else in the dream was acting like that was normal, as if his death had never occurred. I was the only one who was confused about where he came from and how... Even he was looking at me like he was surprised by my reaction. I don't know what the dream means, but I felt like writing it down. Maybe the timing of the dream has something to do with the fact that we planned a date for spreading Tyler's ashes and it happens to be two weeks from yesterday. Maybe it means I've neglected my grieving process because I've been busy with so many other things. Maybe it's random. I don't know.

I miss you, Tyler. I wish my dream could be real.