I haven’t been posting for several reasons. I’d give you all the reasons but the most important one is I’m busy BUT ALSO when I post I want to post something that will be entertaining. Life recently hasn’t been all that entertaining. I’ve decided that I just need to post as life happens which means you never know what you are going to get on this site since I never know what curve ball life is going to throw me. The thing I am learning right now is that not many people have gone through this much grief or else they aren’t sharing. Maybe I should share. It sucks and it’s difficult. All I’m looking for right now is a steady normal. If I can accomplish this on any given day I pat myself on the back. On days like today, I pat myself on my back that I made it.

Here’s the story. For about a year, Randy has been helping a friend clean up his life so he and his girlfriend can get married. The plan was to have the wedding in June on the beach in California. We’d discussed plans earlier this year. They were excited. We were excited. It was all love and happiness and bliss.

Then February.

Today the couple was married at Wheeler Farm. I received notice last week the wedding was happening today. Even though I heard last minute I really wanted to attend for a few reasons. 1: To represent Randy. I knew if Randy could be there he would so would go in his honor. 2: Along the same lines as #1, if Randy could be there he would be. Could he be there? Maybe I’d get a passing glimpse of him or at least feel his presence. I would do anything and be anywhere to get to him.

I was warned by the bride beforehand that there would be a table with pictures of people who had influenced their lives. Randy’s picture would be displayed on this table. That guy. He really did know how to leave a lasting impact. When we were first dating and I told him I wanted to date other guys still, he said, “That’s okay. You’ll be back.” Despite totally being put off by this statement, I was. He was the best. He knew it and I knew it.

Honestly I couldn’t have been more proud to see his picture on the table. I want his legacy and memory to live on. When I approached the table, I was surprised by the flood of emotions. I knew the picture would be there. I knew what picture could be there, in fact I furnished the picture. But seeing Randy’s handsome face next to pictures of an older people hit me hard. Gone too soon. How is Randy “in memoriam”…”Into memory”? That’s what he is to everyone now. That’s what he is to me. A memory. That’s all I have left. I retreated from the table as this is too much.

Shortly after the wedding started. Down the aisle came the maid of honor, best man, bridesmaids, groomsmen, etc, etc and then the ring barer. A cute little boy (maybe 8 or 9) with thick rimmed, green glasses. He looked like Asher or so I thought. My mind plays tricks on me. It’s not uncommon to see someone who looks like Randy or Asher or Sarah and not want to wish so hard or stretch so far that I can visualize them in my presence. So, so badly I wanted this kid to be Asher. My boy. My eternal summer.

The wedding ceremony was nice. I chocked back a few tears thinking about what Randy would have said. I am sure he would have recited a poem from memory. I’m sure he would have said something about the importance of honor, respect, appreciation and love in a marriage. Things we valued. I am sure he would have told the groom to give the bride a break from the kids/life every once in a while. This is something Randy knew the importance of and was always great at.

After the ceremony, there was a luncheon. As we ate I noticed two tables away a little girl wearing a dress Sarah owned. The same cream and florescent pink dress I buried her in. Too much. I couldn’t let my mind go there. My girl. My best Sarah ever.

This is my life now. I go and go and go until I can’t go any more. Then I go home, cuddle up to baby Z and cry.

A major part of me has been torn up all day. I don’t want these constant reminders. I want to get past the pain, which I’ve been told will be impossible. I just want to hold my babies. I think of all the times I went on business trips and Randy would show up with the kids to pick me up. I couldn’t wait to give them all a squeeze. As we would ride home I would reach to the back seat and hold their hands. A few days away from my babies was way too long. Never did I think I would have to go not days, not months, not years but decades. I can’t go there. I have to think of the minutes ahead.

The minor part of me hopes the picture, the ring barer and the dress were signs from heaven. Reminders that my family is away of me. Maybe it’s all coincidence. Maybe it’s not. I have to lean toward the side of hope. What else do I have?