It’s Memorial Day weekend. The weather is cloudy and grey. You have been gone 3 years 4 months and I still find myself shocked when reality hits. I remember when you lived at the beach. You hated summers. All the traffic and crowds. I can still hear your voice complaining about how long it took to get from one place to another.
What I wouldn’t give to have you here complaining about summer tourists invading your paradise. I can still see you standing in your boat. “ The only way to get anywhere around here is by boat”. You still had that large grin on your handsome face. I knew this was just an excuse to get you out on the water, your favorite place to be.
I dreamed about the house the other night. I drove by and realized it was for sale. I sat in my car calling the realtor. I had to get inside. I had to be where you were. She was kind and listened as I told her this house once belonged to you. I told her I desperately needed to walk through those rooms once again. I had to touch where you touched. She told me she had adult sons and couldn’t imagine what I was feeling. Handing me the keys without any questions. My tears started to fall as the lock turned opening the door. My mind flooding with memories of walking through this door hundreds of times before.
The house was vacant. Eerily quiet. Looking exactly as it was the last time we walked through these rooms together. Both of us with tears in our eyes knowing your disease robbed us of our happy place.
I sat on the living room floor, the carpet showing signs of wear. Familiar spills and puppy accidents marking years of our life were still apparent. Each mark told a story. I could picture our house the way it used to be. Full of love and laughter. Sandy dogs running through the kitchen after romping in the surf. Both of us trying to shoo them outside. Laughing as we became as sandy as the dogs.
I remembered every detail. Every moment we shared together. Ten years of wonderful memories flooded my brain. My mind allowing me the gift of going back in time. I could see you standing in the kitchen. Khaki shorts, bare feet, sun kissed hair. “Hey Mom, can I get you a drink?” Your face handsome and tan. Your beautiful eyes always smiling. You loved this house by the sea. I loved your happiness.
I walked from room to room as precious memories washed over my shattered heart. Memories of a time when life was perfect. Settlement day. Moving in. Hanging pictures. Sandy floors. The chaos of boxes everywhere. The joy that living by the sea brought to both of us. Oh how proud you were of the life you built. I remember that beautiful smile. “Mom, can you believe this is mine”.
How I wished I had the power to go back in time. I wanted to open my eyes and see you standing there. I wanted to undo the ugliness that took you away. I wanted to wake up from the nightmare that is now my reality.
I felt a profound sadness wash over me. Still in disbelief that you were gone. Oh God, how did this happen? How did life take this ugly turn? I felt your loss like never before. This once cozy, little home so full of life, love, and laughter now stood as empty as my soul. Tears began again as I walked through that door for the last time. This house now a symbol of profound loss.
Walking to my car, I allowed myself one last look. My mind playing tricks on my heart as I see you coming through the door. That smile on your face. Your sun bleached hair hidden under your hat. Kahlua bouncing at your heels. For a brief moment you were there. I wanted to yell out. To reach toward you touching your face. For a fleeting second everything returned to normal. Life was as it used to be. I felt joy.
I remember hearing of a saying, “Heaven Is A Little Closer In A House By The Sea”. Imagine my surprise finding that print while visiting a seaside town. I couldn’t wait to hang it in our little house that represented Heaven to both of us. I remember standing on a chair trying to guide you. A little to the right. No just a smidge left. Perfect.
That print became the centerpiece of the wall. Surrounded by pictures we both loved. The dogs running through the breaking waves. You standing by your precious boat. You and Mike swimming in the bay. Both of you tanned and smiling. Pictures of a life that now feels a lifetime ago. Almost like a dream.
Those memories live protected and preserved forever in my heart. That loved print now hangs in my home. Seeing it tugs at my heart. Its meaning now signifies unspeakable loss. The casualties of addiction. My beautiful boy and a little piece of Heaven by our beloved sea. 💜💜