It’s a peaceful Sunday afternoon. Today has somehow seemed more ‘normal’ to me  than any other in the two months since Sam died. I woke up late on this sparkling day with a feeling of peace. I think I’d had a dream of all three kids. I made my way out of bed and joined Diane in Sam’s room. We’d made a goal of opening the last of the many hundereds of condolence cards we’d received for Sam. As always, we took our time reading the letters that people sent. I try to imagine them sitting down to write.. Many times I can reach out across the distance and time and feel how sad they felt for us. . It may be hard to understand this.. but we really enjoy reading those letters..  Most of the cards began  with  some version of the phrase.. “words cannot express”… but somehow. the words people chose did manage to  express the writer’s  sadness  and caring for us. Some cards had just signatures.. others had long  letters,, some had nice memories of Sam., some had pictures  There was a both a satisfaction and a sadness with finally opening the last letter from that large box.. in one since it was a job that needed doing. On the other hand there was a finality to it that really hit me…  One of the other jobs was to collect the checks and cash that folks had generously donated to Sam’s fund. We had several boxes that we filled mostly with $1 bills collected at the schools, the battle of the bands and other places. I had the job of counting that money…At first it seemed like a chore.. then it dawned on me that each dollar had been pulled out of some kids lunch money and handed over to Sam as an act of love… we had about 400 $1 acts of love.. amazing !.

    About midday I was alone in the house. Gabe was up at the mountain. Max and Diane were off with Jessie. And Sam was…   ?.. Sam was everywhere.  Everything I touched in the empty house was full of Sam. I cleaned out the lab a little and came across the mess from one of our last projects. Sam had collected over 600 Red Bull cans and had planned to cut them apart to cover a whole wall with them. We’d sawed up about 100 of the cans. It was nasty, messy work and left shredded aluminum all over the lab. I had hated doing the cutting.. now I’m looking forward to doing it. Gabe and I are going to make that wall for Sam.

   Around 2, my friend Pete showed up and the two of us went snowshoeing up behind the house. We talked alot about Sam… I hadn’t seen Pete since the day of the memorial service. He made the same comment about me looking/seeming better than he would have expected.. It is hard for people to know what to expect. Pete did get to see me breakdown when I came across Sam’s Gibson Les Paul guitar. Our friend Kevin had it out and I hadn’t seen it since Sam died. It’s funny, but I find I’m sometimes surprised how hard something like that will hit me even on a day when I’m feeling solid. I’ve heard several of Sam’s friends tell me that they, too,  are surprised that they are still needing to cry about Sam sometimes. I think we’re all learning that it’s going to take a long, long  time to heal.. and that’s really OK. .. we have no other choice.

   One thing I have to do before I go to bed tonight is complete my performance self-assessment  for work. It’s strange thinking about what to say… I know many things happened at work last year.. but I can only  think of Sam. I’m not sure what to write.. and the thought of doing it is making me feel agitated like I often used to feel about work. I need to find a way to channel some of the peace and mindfulness that the last 2 months has given me into my thinking about work. Can you help me out with that , Sam ?

-jc

It’s Saturday night and I’m at a potluck at Jen and Tim’s house. There are lots of good food and friends around.  There are about  20 people here right now  and everyone I can see has a button with Sam’s picture. That’s pretty amazing considering it’s been nine weeks since he died.  The nice thing about crowds like this is that you can get away with just about anything. I don’t think anyone has noticed yet that I’m over here typing on the computer rather than socializing. J

    In a few minutes we’re going to clear away the plates and start making SamStones. The idea is jelling a bit more each day. Our thought now is to make thousands of fired clayt ‘rocks’ with Sam’s name on the front and our new URL (samstones.org)  on the back. We hope to spread some of Sam’s spirit this way. The website is just barely up at this point. I’m looking for help in making it a good place for info about Sam and some of the ways are keeping his memory alive. We also want to make it easy for folks to get these SamStones so that they can carry them to the four corners of the earth. Sam would think that was so cool.    It feels very good to put energy into something that  passes on Sam’s love and his wonderful spirit.  One of the things I’m finding  that most of the stuff that’s been written about mourning the death of a kid is about ‘coping’… I’ve not come across much on the topic of ‘celebrating’. Sam was/is a joyous spirit.. so just coping seems so inadequate.   I wish there were more resources for grieving folks about how to creatively honor their loved ones…  

   I did start reading a very interesting book on loss today.. “Ghost Rider – Travell on the Healing Road” by Neil Peart, the drummer from the Canadian band Rush. My friend Kevin gave it to me. In one year Piert lost his daughter to a car accident then his wife to cancer all within a year.  From two chapters of reading  I feel a great kinship with the guy as only someone who’s faced this kind of loss can feel.   At the same time it also helps me realize how very different everyone’s path through loss can be. Peart spends a good deal of time talking about how losing a kid estranged him from his wife. That seems unbelievable to me given my own experience. I can’t imagine how’d I’d get through this without Diane. .. while we are finding our own path through grieving.. our love for each other and our family is the one of the main thing sustaining us at this point. Peart also chooses to cope  by getting on his motor cycle and driving 55,000 miles to escape his loss.  I can’t imagine  getting through this without our community… The other thing I realize from reading someone else’s reflections on mourning is they make for weird reading.. it makes me wonder why anyone would read what I’m writing in this blog… :-0

    Ooops,,, I’ve just been caught typing.. I think the karaoke is about to start so I must run and hide.. Plug your ears Sam.. Talk to you tomorrow.

-jc

Friends,
     There will be a potluck and samstone making session tonight (Sat 1/20) at Jen and Tim Kenny’s on Wes White Hill. Things will start about 6:30.  Need info ?Call Jen at 434-4090 .. Ya’ll come !
-jc

Another moderately quiet evening at home.. ‘only’ Max, Gabe, Mason  Scott, Carl, Jessie, Dan and Chai in the house. Diane is at a book club meeting tonight.  I like the fact that the house is hardly ever even close to empty.. It’s harder to be down when you have people to feed. Not that that was hard tonight. Our fiend Kristen brought over a delicious dinner. I worry that we’re getting spoiled now.. we never were particularly good about cooking for ourselves before Sam died so this seems like luxury.  Gabe and I had some quiet time playing a game before bed which was nice. Folks are drifting off to bed now and I’m feeling a little down. I’ve had a busy couple of days at work and that hasn’t given me the time to think about Sam during the day. On top of that ,the last two mornings have been too cold to run which kept me form my morning commune with Sam. I find that if I don’t spend  enough  time grieving… no. that’s not the right  word.. if I don’t spend enough  time being with Sam in a day it catches up with me. It’s like some sort of congestion., . Being here in his room tonight makes it feel a little better.
   I had another day of walking the halls of work and running into people I haven’t seen since Sam died. I’m learning that I have to plan about 20 minutes every time I walk out of my office door to allow for the hugs and concerned conversations I have with everyone I meet in the hall. The funny thing is that I’m finding this to be good for me.. and not an inconvenience at all. In my past life I was always running down the hall late for something and too busy to talk.. now I’m finding that I (usually) can’t rush by someone when they give me that ‘I don’t know what to say’ look. It slows me down and I like it. I’m also finding that it’s fun leaving my office door open so people can wander by.. I also find that I can’t multi-task as well as I used too.. which means I need to stop typing when someone comes in to talk.. Again it slows me down in a very nice way.. I can’t see how mindful people get any work down at all. J .. I had some very good conversations today in the hall.. Several friends said something to the effect of .. ‘you don’t look as bad as I expected’.   It’s hard to try and live up to folks expectation of what a grieving father should look/act like. I can see it is hard for my friends to know what to expect..  I’m still ‘me’ in here.. just a sadder and maybe wiser version.: meet  me 2.0.
   I did allow myself one indulgence today. Diane had set me up with another Reiki session with our friend Marcy. If you haven’t done Reiki you may want to check it out.
It’s a form of Japanese body  work that attempts to rebalance your body’s  energy fields..  Two months ago I wouldn’t have been open to anything involving energy fields that you couldn’t measure with a voltmeter.. Now I’m finding myself open to all sorts of things. I’m finding Reiki to be intensely relaxing.. Both times I’ve done it I’ve had some really powerful  images of Sam come into my mind. He always has that goofy smile…
   Anyway.. it’s getting late and I should go..   See you in my dreams Sam.

-jc

 Ps.  Jen. Called tonight and asked me to tell folks that she’s planning a pot-luck this Saturday at her house on Wes White Hill at around 6:30ish. We’re going to be making some more SamStones on them.  ..Pse come and wear your playing with clay clothes. Hope to see you there. !