I thought about you today. To be honest, there isn’t a day that goes by where you’re not present with me. I carry you everywhere. Today, however, it was different. The spark that ignited my potent recall of you happened innocuously enough; I had just procured a tea and made my way outside. I was greeted by a warm, watchful sun. I paused for a moment before continuing on and remarked quietly at how beautiful it was. It was in that where I began to think of you. I reached into my pocket and withdrew my phone. Before moving another inch though, I stopped myself. You see, I was going to call you. I was going to call you and tell you just how magnificent the weather was out this way. But I couldn’t… I can’t, because, Mum, you are no longer here for me to call. That breaks my heart, it really does…
Sometimes I still cry, knowing that you’re really gone. Told my therapist about it today, she says that’s normal. Says grief is not linear. I am learning that she is a smart lady. I think you’d like her.
I am awake and at my computer right now. I can’t sleep. Been seeing the boy again from behind closed eyes. I know you knew about my nightmares, they are still around, but I’m working on it.
Oh! I should tell you; next month I will have been sober for one-year! Can you believe it? I did it, Mum. I put the bottle down and lifted my sorry gaze up. I see things now, see them as they really are. What I mean is, I remain in the present for much longer than I once was able. I feel the sun and it no longer makes me want to drink the day away in misery—isn’t that something?
What else can I catch you up on? I’m still not married. I know, I know… I’m working on that too. Actually, that’s a lie; Mum, to be honest with you, your species is a tad crazy! Or maybe mine’s just dumb…? Who knows?
Trump is still president. I know you thought he’d be impeached by now, but somehow, he has weathered the storm. He still Tweets, too. Though, I am not sure why as his articulation is akin to that of someone talking with hot food in their mouth after having stubbed their baby toe on the leg of a table. Trudeau is still raising taxes and it doesn’t look as though that’s going to slow down any time soon. We did however find out that he enjoys his water via drink-box water bottle thingy’s… So, there’s that.
The rest of the family seems to be doing alright, though I’ll admit, I don’t speak to them as much as perhaps I should. We all stayed in relatively close contact, communication-wise at least after you left, but that’s sort of normalized back to previous revisions now.
I have a book coming out! Holy shit, right? I wrote a god damn book. I know, I’m surprised, too. My 12th grade writing teacher would likely share in your incredulity. I’m not sure how it all happened, but it just kind of did. I’ve actually been published already into an anthology. I speak of you in that book. The day I found out… you know, that you were gone…
My book is due out in October, my favorite time of year. Favorite month, maybe. I’m pretty excited. I wish you could be there to see it. I’ll save you a copy.
Drew was in town recently. Remember, Drew? Of course you do—he spent more weekends at our place than his own growing up. He was in town for about 4-5 days. We went to Niagara Falls. It was fun being able to show him around. Although, it was Canada Day, so, it was a little too peopley for me. I still don’t manage crowds all that well.
I’m moving… no, not closer to home… sorry, Mum. I got another apartment. It’s a nice, 1-bedroom by the lake. I may actually furnish this one! First time in 5-years. Yes, I know, I know… I just wasn’t doing so well is all, I’m getting better now, though. Days aren’t perfect, but, better…
I know you’d want me out there dating, meeting a “nice girl,” I just don’t have the energy for all that, Mum. Besides, remember what I said about the whole crazy thing. Oh, don’t roll your eyes, it’s true!
Anyway, I miss you. Sometimes I see things while out on my walks and I think how much you’d like them, too. Those moments make me a little sad also. It’s hard, you know? This world’s pretty big without you here. I’m 36-years old, but, when I think of you, I always do it through those bent glasses I used to have as a kid, running towards you with my Superman cape on. Thanks for making that, by the way. It’s become one of my favorite memories. Not too many innocent times as a kid. When you started to get sick, I was always so scared that you were just going to disappear in your sleep. I used to check on you, you know? When you were asleep, before I would head to bed, I would crack your door a ways and peer in to make sure you were still breathing, I couldn’t fall asleep until I knew for sure. Sorry if I ever woke you…
Been real hot here lately. My arms, legs, head and feet have a tremendous farmers tan! I dunno what kind of sick joke you were playin at when you gave me genetics, but you left me looking like uncooked chicken without a shirt on! Not exactly an aphrodisiac for the ladies, Mum… and you harp on about me getting shacked up… sheesh!
Well, I suppose that’s all for now. Oh! I have a public speaking thing that I am doing tomorrow. It’s for a bunch of paramedics and their families. I’m nervous about it. I don’t want to come across as weak or undeserving, you know? I dunno what kind of clout you have out there in the etherverse, but if you could pull some strings and ensure that all goes well, I’d be mighty grateful. Thanks, Mum.
Anyway, been nice chatting with ya. Take care, be well. I love you. To the moon and back then around each star, I love you.