For Chris

I am sitting on a bench at a youth baseball paradise near Cooperstown. Our child is happily off with his friends trading pins and exploring this camp where he will spend a few days. You were excited for him and rightly so, it’s a dream come true if you like this sort of thing, which he does. He doesn’t need me so here I am, waiting around for the next event, alone and missing you so much. If we’d split this thing up and you’d stayed home with J, I would be texting you now. More likely you would be here and I’d be home with J, or we’d trade off. I’ve half a mind to find your name in my contacts and text you anyway but the undeliverable bounce back message would be too hurtful. I’ll do this instead.

It’s these situations out with other people, friends or strangers, where I’m forced to confront our situation and I feel close to panicked. This one is a humdinger and I’ve been dreading it for months. I should have been more positive or tried harder, but it meets everything I was afraid of. Being alone in a crowd of happy families.

I don’t usually feel so unglued at home, and I see that perhaps I’ve been hiding there. I can’t hide forever. Life is for the living. You wanted us to keep going and make it a good life.

Yes, life is for the living and memories are for the mourning. And what is for the dead? On this bench I’ve been pondering that. Nobody will know until it’s her turn. Peace and love, I hope, in whatever forms they take.

You were worried about disappearing... I understand. It must have been terrifying to face that. Now that it’s happened, I wonder how it was for you and how you are now, if you’re ok and if you know how much we love you. Where are you? It’s nonsensical to think in this way because neither of us believed there was any real existence in which to feel or be in the human way in the “after.” Yet, my human mind cannot yet grasp you just not being anymore. I’m grappling hard with you never coming back and just being nowhere. I miss you. I don’t understand why this happened to us. There is no why to be found but that’s not satisfactory either.

“Get busy living or get busy dying.” From your favorite movie, Shawshank Redemption. You did that so well. You lived until you couldn’t. Now I have to do it without you, and do more than sleepwalk or tread water through my days. I will try. But today I just miss you so much I can’t do much more than cry for you.

Today on Father’s Day I need to tell you that you were and still are the best dad for our kids. They know you and remember you, and we will continue talking about you and remembering you forever. We love you and we miss you.