It’s been a rough few weeks since my last post.  I had so much optimism and bravado about getting out in the world, but it was all optimism and bravado. We went out to dinner with friends to Postino in Lafayette.  That’s it.  End of story.  I still haven’t made it to the grocery store or Peets or the drycleaner.

I’m consumed with the details of John’s Memorial service scheduled for December 21^st.  So much to do.  It’s all I can think about.  My mind is filled with thoughts and ideas about what I will say.  What would be meaningful to say?  How I can actually say it?  How I will survive that day?  Scanning photos and creating slideshows. Coordinating a caterer.  What about music. Is this really how I am spending my days? It is surreal.

We were all supposed to be together today. When we parted in August, we knew we would be together on November 22^nd.  John and Paul and I had flights to Boston.  Our hotel was booked.  We were taking John to visit the East Coast for the very first time. He was going to see Matt’s school, Matt’s fraternity, Boston, New England, my great-grandmother’s grave, my grandmother’s childhood home.  We had plans to walk the Freedom trail and go to Sturbridge Village and eat Italian food in the North End and  lobster in Back Bay.  John was going to hang out with Matt and his friends. We had train reservations for today to New York.  I booked our hotel in New York on May 5^th.  A suite on the upper west side near the Museum of Natural History.  Neither of the boys had ever been to New York. Paul and my visit  last Fall inspired us to share it all with them. The museums, the park, the 9/11 memorial, a show, the High Line, Ellis Island. It would be  better this time because we knew what we were doing.  We would be with them.

Shattered dreams.  Dashed hopes and expectations. Matt is in Laos.  I wonder exactly where.  It’s already Thanksgiving there. He’s eating street food, noodles for $1.50 US.  Happy Thanksgiving Matt! We are here.  Embraced and entertained and supported and distracted by wonderful friends who care for us so dearly. Friends we love.

Matt is having a great adventure.  We are well cared for.  But it’s all wrong.  This is not the plan.  The plan was for us to have children who we cared for and loved and supported and struggled with and cheered for and hugged and kissed and fed organic food and sent to specialists and inoculated and buckled and helmeted and taught to swim and set limits and gave chores to and quizzed on their spelling words and counseled and grounded.  They were going to go college and get jobs and find love and get married and have kids and we would travel together and spend stretches of time at the lake where we would laugh and swim and boat and ski and love all over again.  We did our job.  They were supposed to stay safe.  They were supposed to out-live us.

Our world is rocked.  Our first boy is gone.  Our plans are altered.  We start anew.  A new life with one son and no expectations except to enjoy this moment.  Be in this moment. Survive this moment. Appreciate this moment and see what tomorrow brings.