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

For Thor - 96 - What would you wish today, sweet boy?

It's your birthday today. You would be 22. And I wonder how would you look as you age into your twenties. What accomplishments and experiences would you be celebrating in your young life? Would you be a daddy? What would our day look like today if we didn't have that other day, you know, the day you died. I imagine I'd be vying for your time, trying to figure out when dad and I would get to celebrate the day with you. But like most 20-somethings, you would have a million other places to be and people to see… I would wait and hope and be so grateful for you to swing by Mama's for a hug and birthday dinner. Today it's a pork roast with all the trimmings. There are not enough words to express how much I wish you were here to share this meal with us; to laugh and play music among us again.

It is funny how we are so brash and unconcerned with time when we are young. My lens is different now. Life has seasoned me in her crucible and ground me to dust. Each passing year the clock ticks down, moments slip by, and so many infinite possibilities melt away unrealized, unlived. And then our heart beats again, and here we are in THIS now with all of its possible experiences. What will I choose to see, feel, do, to be…what now?

As it is your birthday today the moments are heavy; pregnant with memories and longing, grief and love. And this is okay. The burden of loss that I carry is woven into my being, wholly integrated. Everywhere I go, it is with me. And I have learned to walk with it well. Most of the time.

Tsunami waves still rise up and crash into me. When I neglect to tend the interiority of self and have gotten too distracted with the busy baubles of the world and forget to listen and live from my heart, that's when I am shaken until my teeth rattle to wake up! Wake up and see! Wake up and love! Wake up and smile from my heart.

The perennial lesson of grief is one of love and remembering to prepare a place in the heart for the One Love to be experienced - to be lived. This is where you reside in eternity, my bright, beautiful being of love and light.

The what-ifs and would-of-beens are painful, but also poignant and bittersweet. I want to hold the memory of your face and voice close. I want to breathe in the echo of the way your hair smelled when you were a boy when you'd been out in the sunshine. What I remember of your nineteen birthdays I hold close in my heart. I replay them with a mental caress, a conjuring and with a mind to be grateful that we had those nineteen at all. There was a long anxious period of time when right after you were born that we weren't sure you were going to stick around. But the Grace of God interceded, and you took that first breath and quickly turned from blue to pink. 

We are in the throws of planning the 2nd Thor's Hammer, and it's a beautiful labor of love for me. So much more than keeping your memory alive, it's a way to share the One Love with the whole community. We heal and grow and thrive in such a love and who doesn't need a little more of that in their life? I feel you near helping me get tasks done and making things easier. My job is to not get in your way too much. Today Starr is coming over to help roll tee-shirts and put up more signs. We plan on remembering you together through smiles and tears, alike.

I was thinking about your first birthday with the Winnie the Pooh cake and the fun party we had at Nana's house. And subsequent Hot Wheels, Monster Truck, GI Joe and cammo cakes… each one was a reflection of your current explorations in life. How innocent and clueless I was… I took so much for granted thinking we would just keep getting to have these special days together. I want to remember every detail now, yet so many memories have dissolved out of the reach of recall. It's a cruelty that we don't realize until we are older how precious each moment really is. How each NOW is the only thing that matters and how present we are with the people who are there with us determines how much we will remember later. Busy, multi-tasking, keeping half an eye on eight different things at once; I have whole years where the memories are patched together haphazardly.

But maybe the actual memory is less important than the emotion of each moment… I recall perfectly how I felt on all of your birthdays. As the gathered guests raised their voices to sing Happy Birthday and the warm, flickering candles dripped pastel colored wax on the cake, I watched your face. I delighted in the light and happiness in your eyes. I was overjoyed, proud, happy, in love, adoring, grateful and hopeful. I always wondered what you wished when you blew out the candles, and I said a little prayer that it would come true.

My heart asks your heart, reaching out across deep time to find you in that still quiet, peaceful place, "What would you wish today, sweet boy?"

I'll just sit here a while and listen.



Love, mama. Just love.


Okay, boyo, I can do that. Happy birthday in heaven, my darling.

I love you,
Mom.