It's Sunday and since I have now trained myself to hold my tears and emotional meltdowns until Sunday, it's kind of always a bit of a hard day but today was harder than most.
As I've said before I've been cleaning out and clearing out and letting go of memories. So today, Brian's daughter came, along with my other two granddaughters and their families and we had a nice dinner and a great afternoon together - all 12 of us!
It was established before Ashley came that she would be taking some of Brian's things back with her. Some I had intended to keep because at the time the kids came to clean out his house and take what they wanted --these things were left. Some I knew all along that one day I would give to one or both of them. I just wanted to wait until some time had passed and they were more settled so they would keep them and care for them. Today was that day.
I had Brian's baseball card collection. His biological father had started the collection for him when he was little, and Brian had kept collecting them for 40 years. Today I gave them to her for her son. I gave her a box of his little odds and ends things, old movies, games, photo albums.
The main reason for the trip here was a portable kitchen island Brian had built for Kara that I didn't have the heart to leave in the house when we sold it, so my husband brought it home. Kara had said she always wanted an island in her kitchen and was a little disappointed that this house did not have one so Brian told her he would just build her one and he did. He built it to her specifications, and she always loved it. I have a video of Paxton pulling up on it and opening the door and sneaking snacks out of it before he could even walk and the very last "hiding" picture she sent me was of him inside that little island’s cabinet with his giant teddy bear and his fuzzy blue blanket. He loved to play in the strangest places.
But the hardest thing that I let go of today was a canvas bag of his old, ragged socks. His "sock puppets" he and the kids made. I wrote a blog post on the infamous sock puppets several years ago. It was such a gift when my daughter found them in his attic before the house was put up for auction. I had packed them away and had not seen them since. That is until last week when I started going through stuff to give the kids. I laughed and cried at finding them again as did she when I opened the bag of puppets. I wanted to show them to her but had fully intended to keep them, but she assumed they were part of the stuff I had for her, and she wanted them. So, I let them go. Rightfully, they were hers. And I needed to let them go. But it was so hard, and I knew as soon as they were down the street the tears would start.
I've also had a toolbox that his son took in the beginning and then because he was not settled or stable at the time, left it with a girlfriend. Fortunately, her mom called me and made the two-hour drive to meet us and see that we got them back. We've had them ever since. I wasn't particularly attached to them and had never opened the box. But today we did and as soon as I saw his tools --well...suffice it to say, it was hard.
Eight and a half long years later I'm still losing pieces of him. Last spring, we lost his little dog that we took in the year he and Kara married. She was 21. It's not like we didn't expect it but still it was losing another connection to him, and we loved the dog, so it was doubly hard.
We had a day today that was a day of remembrance of him. Like what I wanted for his birthday. And that part was great. Alex was not here, but Alex did not want to participate in that kind of celebration anyway. He says it's too hard for him, so this worked out well.
This was not planned as such, it just kind of happened. As we sat here together all of us recalling each of our memories of him - I could not help thinking about Kryss, Justin and Andy. The spouses and significant other of my granddaughters. All they know of him began that one horrible day. They will never know the person he really was. And again, I was saddened by the fact that his whole life was defined by "that". All of the good he ever did and all of the man that he was, the dad that he was and all of the things that he ever did right - were all erased by one tragic event.
My now youngest grandchild is wise beyond her years and surprises me with her wisdom. She says Brian's life was not defined by this to us nor was it to God and that is what matters. We can spend our life hurting over the injustice, or we can share stories like we did today and know he loved us all so much. She says she found Jesus because of it. That fighting through that trauma made her come to know God and she is so grateful for the way God took that tragedy and made her new with it.
Unbelievable.
What a gift.
Happy Birthday my sweet, sweet boy.
