I've been surprised by that.
I keep thinking, it'll get better. Others have said that to me. When my kids sprain their wrist or ankle, I can tell them with authority that it will hurt the worst in the beginning, but in a couple of weeks, they'll barely notice the discomfort.
But then there are other injuries, when it seems to hurt the most in the middle. Times when the process of healing creates a deep, painful itch in the wound.
Right now, almost 6 weeks since his death, I feel like I'm in the middle of a deep, painful itch in my spirit.
We celebrated his birthday on Monday. He would have been 41. He despised birthdays. He felt that they were some sort of relational facade - a fabricated reason to celebrate someone that you wouldn't normally treat special any other day of the week. Really, I think it was deeply tied to the fact that, in his mind, he wasn't worth the party or the attention.
So I tried to honor him on this birthday. We played video games at an arcade. I pushed a couple of kids to be brave and climb on ropes courses as he has done in the past. We ate pasta. I think we successfully had a little fun.
But it was also just a twisted reminder of how lost he was. Year after year, he really felt we were lying or delusional when we tried to express love to him on the day of his birth. He felt he knew the "truth", that there was nothing in him, to his core, worth an ounce of celebration. That always made me sad, year after year. Because I had tried desperately to point out to him everything I knew that was amazing and honorable and lovable about him. And in the end, he just couldn't or wouldn't believe it.
Twenty years ago, I visited Ross on Dickinson's campus to help him celebrate his 21st birthday. I hadn't realized that he was plotting to propose to me, and I unwittingly foiled attempt after romantic attempt that weekend. He finally managed to get me alone in the Stuart House laundry room and said something like, "I've warned you before, how I can be. Are you sure you want to be with me?" You know, the typical intro that makes you feel like your relationship's about to end. Of course I responded with affirmation. And then he proposed.
That was a long time ago. We were so young.
I know that life never turns out the way you plan or expect. That seems like a pretty obvious statement. But it's been haunting me this week.
Happy birthday Ross.
You are amazing.
You are honorable.
You are lovable.
You are worth it all.
