For Thor - 97 - Alchemy on the Anvil

This week the house looked like an Amazon distribution center exploded in the middle of the living room and then caught on fire. Thor's Hammer items are draped on the couch, all over the entry, in Xan's room and crowding Chaz in the camper. We've got piles of shirts and gift bags and chili sampling jars and on and on… And that's just in the house. Dad's barn is full of projects, too. He built an amazing Jenga set; the blocks are 22" long and weigh around 10 lbs each! There's an enormous leaderboard drying on sawhorses as we round the bend toward the 2nd Annual Thor's Hammer event.

It's so much work. It takes many weekends and nights and occupies so much of our mental bandwidth to put this event on in your memory. And sometimes the question is, "Why?"

Why do we feel the need to push so hard? What drives us to pull it all together?

What keeps us moving after long workdays, to fire up our computers and tools and work into the night?

Your dad came in from the barn one day with tears streaming down his face and he said something so moving, "All this effort is happening because of the worst day of our lives." And he's right. We wouldn't be doing any of this if you hadn't died that horrible night. Yet, here we are, finding our way through the rubble. Still picking our way along the path to reclamation. And doing the work for Thor's Hammer is part of that journey.

Grief is the flip-side of love. And for us, grief this big had to be transformed, reflected and shared AS LOVE outside of ourselves. But that doesn't mean it happens overnight. Each time we choose to work on Thor's Hammer, all of us are transmuting the agony of the loss of losing you into something different. Propelled by love and gratitude, we reach deep inside ourselves to give birth to a new thing, in your memory.

Transformation is hard. Ask anyone who's tried to make big changes in themselves. Alchemy occurs when we are brave enough to throw all the grief and pain and sorrow and suffering into the forge and let it cook. It's the fire of love that ultimately melts these our resistance down, burns away the impurities of misunderstanding and a new and better understanding is brought into being. We are changed, forever, by your life and death. And by the process of learning to live beyond our individual siloed pain and longing, but rather in a community, real healing begins to happen.

Thor's Hammer is about you, sweet boy, and your firefighter kindreds. And it's about us, too. But mostly, it's about love and how we come together as a community to lift each other up and celebrate what's good about life and living. We do this with the memory of your bright smile and sparkling eyes and the endearingly mischievous streak that ran right down the middle of your personality because it is the natural continued expression of our love.

My heart hurts but is also light. I get choked up and tears fall, but I also smile. The burden of grief is heavy, but it's easier to carry because all those who love you, too, are right here with me.

It's Hammer Time and after what feels like weeks of rain, the sun is shining! The sky was beautiful, soothing and inspiring me as I drove home from setting up the event site all day. 

I miss you so and love you more, sweet boy.

Mom