The Anniversary

It has been a little over a year now since Max died. It's no secret that he died in our house, so the thought of being in our house on that "anniversary" was not a desirable one. Most of the time, I don't mind being here. I associate our house more with the "happy" times spent with Max. I don't know that I'll ever be able to really leave this house because this was his home. This is where he spent his entire life, and for some reason those are the times that I remember more than anything. I'm glad for that. I think with counseling, writing, and really working on my grief, I've been able to find ways to refocus my thoughts when they find themselves wandering to the early morning hours of June 10, 2011. Still, I think it would have been next to impossible to avoid reliving that day when June 10 came this year. I can't imagine that being in the place where it all happened would have helped at all. So, we went on vacation. Both sets of parents and our siblings and their families came along with us. We rented a big house on Table Rock Lake and spent the week doing whatever we wanted to do. While I was somewhat limited considering that I'm due to give birth any day now, I found plenty to do. Spending the week with our families was exactly what we needed, and we plan on taking a vacation with our families every year for the week of June 10. I know it sounds cheesy, but I have taken such comfort in the outdoors and nature since Max's death. I clearly remember feeling repulsed at the thought of sitting inside in the days and weeks after Max died. I can't explain why, and most people who know me were probably a little surprised by my sudden rejection of air conditioning, television, and all of the comforts of modern technology. There was just something about all of these things that felt so suffocating. While I have renewed my love of air conditioning and television, there is still something about being in nature that is still very therapeutic and appealing to me. Table Rock Lake was the perfect setting then for this vacation. We rented a house that was on the lake, but still very secluded. We were surrounded by trees and silence. It was beautiful and peaceful and helped me to do a lot of thinking and reflecting. I had quite a few breakdowns, some of them expected (on the 10th) and some of them surprising (after taking a family picture at Old Time Photos). But I'm not naive; I know that I needed to feel these emotions and to let the tears come. I owe that to Max, and I owe it to myself.

I know that I've said it before, but last week really made me believe even more that we wouldn't be where we are in our grief process without the love and support of our family and friends. We are so lucky to be surrounded by so many selfless, thoughtful, and genuinely compassionate people. From little trinkets and notes to planning elaborate family vacations, the gifts that they have given us have absolutely changed our lives. Grief is lonely. I've never felt so alone in my life. My friends and family make it less lonely, though. I know they feel helpless and struggle to find the "right" words and actions, but I have to say that they're doing a pretty damn good job. It really took the combined efforts of counselors, friends, and family to get us to a place where we feel like Max's death is something that we can live with. It's not "okay", and I still feel very angry at times, but I know now that it's okay to keep living and feeling happiness. I can honestly say that there was a time when I felt that I would never be happy again. I'm glad that my friends and family proved me wrong on that one.

As far as June 10 goes, it is a day that I will always dread. It is also my best friend's birthday. I hate that her birthday will always be associated with something so horrible, but maybe it will get easier with time. For me, June 9 was almost harder than June 10. June 9 was Max's last day alive, and it is probably that day that is most clear as far as my memories of him go. I remember nearly everything I did that day. This year, we were driving to Table Rock on June 9. Every time I looked at the clock, I was taken back one year to my last day with Max. Part of what was so painful about thinking about June 9 was that I had no idea that it was my last day with Max. What would I have done differently had I known? For one, I wouldn't have napped with Max. I would have watched him sleep and memorized every part of him. Maybe I would have talked to him more. I'll be honest...I talked to him a lot, and sometimes I felt crazy for doing so. I would have told him everything though, had I known that I wouldn't have that opportunity later. I would have taken a thousand pictures. I would have held him every second of the day. I wouldn't have gone to the grand opening of Live Strong stadium to see KC Sporting. I would have stayed home and stayed awake and took in all of him. But then what? The outcome is still the same, no matter how I would have spent that day. And really, June 9 was a very good day. I saw the brotherly love between Ethan and Max, I shared Max with close friends, and I told him how much I loved him. I told him every day. Thinking about how I would have done things differently isn't about regretting how I actually spent my time that day; it's about imagining what could have been, and we all do a little bit too much of that after someone we love dies. Ultimately, I am satisfied with how I spent Max's last day alive. I think he probably feels the same way. Even me leaving for the evening had a greater purpose--Scott got to spend the entire evening with Max. What if he didn't have that?

So, we've made it through the first year. It doesn't seem possible that it's been a year since I last saw Max, held him, brushed my fingers through his beautiful hair, or told him that I loved him. I have a feeling that I will feel that way with every year that passes. Yes, the last year has been hard. It's been the worst year of my life, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But the last year has also brought many good things. I feel like my marriage has been strengthened, my friendships have gained more meaning, my perspective on life is a little more meaningful, my priorities have changed for the better, and we're about to welcome a new life to the world. I don't know if it was Max's purpose in life to make these things happen, but I do know that I am so grateful to him for letting me discover these things. I used to say without hesitation that I would give up everything to go back to my old life before Max died. Now, I don't know that I have the right to bargain like that. Of course, I would give anything to have Max here today, running around the house and trying to form words. The difference, I guess, is that when I said this before, it was because I hated my life and couldn't stand the thought of living without Max. Now, I don't hate my life, and while I still don't like the thought of living without Max, I do accept that it is my reality. I've found ways to live with that reality, and I've found that I actually do have a lot to look forward to in life. I have Max to thank for a lot of wonderful things in my life. I think that we are just beginning to discover the gifts and legacies that Max left behind, and in this way (and many others) I know that he will continue to be a part of our lives forever.