Wednesday, December 30, 2009

There are some things that only you would understand. I know I can still talk to you, but its really hard to hear your response.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Home Again

As soon as I landed at DIA the other night, a whole new wave of grief washed over me. Front and center again. Everywhere I go reminds me of you; there is always a connection. I am trying to shift from sometimes feeling anxious/sad/overwhelmed when I think of you to rather holding onto the good. A friend shared with me today a passage from a poem written by Mary Oliver, and I thought you would just love it:

maybe death isn't darkness, after all,
but so much light wrapping itself around us —

as soft as feathers —
that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking,
and shut our eyes, not without amazement,
and let ourselves be carried,
as through the translucence of mica,
to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow,
that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light —
in which we are washed and washed
out of our bones.

So I'm trying to shift from the darkness and instead hold onto the light you created in this world, the light that shines within all of us who love you. I know it will take time, but I know it will happen.

Beth and I took another snow hike today. At one point we sat down on the snow in a clearing of trees and talked about you. Suddenly Beth said, "By now, if Taige were here, he'd have made a bunch of snowballs and thrown them at us! SOS!" Later on we walked by a lone pine tree whose needles were just perfectly covered in snow; it had collected on them at an angle due to the direction of the wind. It was so beautiful! We felt your presence there today. We saw your light.

So keep it coming, Taige. Lots of love.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

I think you are making your rounds!

In reading this blog, comments on your facebook, and talking to friends, I'm learning that you have showed up in a lot dreams lately! I remember my mom saying that she talked to her dad a lot in her dreams after he passed. I never really understood what she was talking about until now. You have showed up in my dreams a lot lately. The dreams have mainly consisted of you and I just sitting there talking. Last night was so real, I was even thinking..."wow...this seems like a dream...but I know it's not!" We were just sitting there talking about everything that has happened. I was sad, but trying not to cry in front of you. It seemed you were doing the same thing. At one point in the conversation, you folded back your shirt sleeve and showed me this great tan line. When we lifeguarded together we were always trying to get the best tans! You then said that you couldn't believe you had gone off to heaven with such a great tan! We laughed and I told you that you looked more beautiful then ever. I was so excited, because you broke the ice with your humor, and I could ask you about heaven. All I remember is this HUGE grin on your face. The dream ended there. I know you're happy, and I also know you are making your rounds to all your friends and family letting them know that.
Immediately, after I found out about your death, I was in visiting my pastor at our church. I was telling her all about you, and the great loss I was feeling. She said something that I'll never forget. She explained to me that when someone passes on, we do not stop having a relationship with them. The relationship continues on, it just changes. I get that now! Whether your memory comes in the middle of the night in the form of a dream, or some how, some way your spirit can speak to us when our subconscious lets it...I don't know. But I do know all of your friends and family continue to have a relationship with you. Some how, some way. And for that...I'm thankful.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Always a good host, always.

I just remembered when you had your miniscus surgery and as you were coming out from under the anesthesia, you were completely out of it and told all the nurses in the room that you were having a party at your house and excitedly gave them all your address. I remember the way you leaned over and your open-mouthed laugh when you recounted this story to us later that week.

I love and miss you.

La Telaraña

Siempre estás en mis pensamientos, sabes.
Son las cuatro de la mañana y de nuevo no puedo dormir.
Todavía no lo entiendo, no lo puedo entender, no lo puedo internalizar.
Como las olas entregándose a la playa, el dolor de tu ausencia vuelve y me deja inconsolable.

En vida, tejías una telaraña fuerte e intrincada de tus amigos
Personas únicas; cada una ofrecía algo distinto.
Personas que nunca se conocieran si no te hubieran conocido.
Y como una araña tejiendo, las noticias de tu muerte extendieron lejos
Las personas en mi propia telaraña—en todas partes del mundo, algunos que nunca te conocieron—me ofrecieron sus pensamientos y sus corazones.

Pero a veces me siento como una polilla, sofocada en esta telaraña.
No hay nada que decir.
No sé cómo sentir.
Pero, como tú hacías en tu vida, voy a tratar a ver lo bueno en todo.
Y la próxima vez que veo una telaraña, perfecta, delicada, magnífica, con unas gotitas de rocío
Pensaré de ti, y una sonrisa vendrá a mi cara.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009


Last night I dreamed that I found you in a small, white room. You were leaning back in a cozy chair, that devilish grin all over your face. I remember saying, "Thank God, Taige, I had the most horrible dream..." and you just sat there with a knowing look. You emanated the most sincere, comforting feeling.

Salmon Toss

Remember the last Labor Day party at the Res when Taige tried to do the fish toss?! He was trying to wind up a 3 foot long Salmon and lost his grip. Mr. Fish went flying and he was embarrased and thought it was halarious at the same time so he kind of collapsed in laughter before someone handed him the spare fish. We all laughed too, until the original Mr. Fish hit a six year old by-stander and knocked him over!!  Haaa!!  Sorry kid!