A year has come and gone. As typical with any special occasion, the days leading up to it and the days after are much worse than the actual day itself. The night before as I tried to sleep, I was treated to a beautiful moment. I had a vision. Some may call it a dream, but it only lasted about thirty seconds. I saw the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Tall green mountainside surrounding a valley with wild flowers and waving grasses everywhere. From out of the mountainside through the valley, my son came walking towards me. He was tan, dressed in his normal shorts and t-shirt wearing his hat, sunglasses and his big beautiful smile. He was radiating peace and happiness as he walked towards me. I can recall being so excited to see him but knew it was just a moment in time. I woke up smiling. That was it. Short but beautiful. It felt so real, so peaceful. I looked at the clock and noticed it was only four in the morning. I sat up knowing I would not be falling back to sleep. At that moment I heard a voice in my mind urging me to lay back down. I did, and slept until 8:30! As my feet hit the floor, I realized I felt at peace and I knew I would get through whatever the day was going to throw my way. I still am not sure what took place that evening. For lack of anything better I call it a very short dream. However, it did not feel like a dream, it felt real, honest and tangible.
After pouring my coffee, I went outside to greet the day. It was beautiful day, warm, and sunny. Looking to the sky a butterfly came down and landed on my shoulder. My son was with me, I knew it, I felt it and I was thankful to be able to look forward to sharing the day with friends and family.
Now, I am not saying the day was without tears, and waves of emotion. That would be crazy. Odd things set my mind reeling. Flowers from his friends, watching the new generation of babies knowing that I will never experience Tonys children, enduring my boys struggle with their own emotions, seeing Brenda keep a smile all day while knowing she would rather scream and cry, having my parents not only deal with their own grief but watching their daughter and grandsons relive the most devastating day of their lives and my husband helpless to rid us all of this pain as he sat leg elevated on crutches.
I am grateful that so many people came to share our love for Tony. It was awkward but it felt right. At the end of the evening we all went out to Tony's skate ramp and let balloons float up to the sky. As they drifted away I felt comfort believing that one day I will see my son again. I do not know when or how, but I do know I will be with him. Until that day I will live each day moment by moment and always try to remember to celebrate his life I shared with him rather than grieve for the loss. Do not misunderstand me, I am not that strong. Many, many times you may catch a glimpse of me with a tear in my eye, but when that happens, I try to gather any of the wonderful memories that make me smile.
This is the hardest thing I have ever done, it is constant, unrelenting and exhausting. The strength of my friends and family and knowing Tony would want me to be happy are what keeps me strong.
The days ahead are unknown, I hope with each one I not only continue to grow stronger but I can make Tony proud of me.
