My last few posts have been about missing my son.  But I want to add that life goes on.  My grandson was here for a few days and brought a great deal of life into the house.  Then too, even without him having been there, the mundane, the nitty-gritty of life goes on and thoughts of my children and their families are, passing thoughts in my mind, as they were at the beginning of this year, and then, the thought comes that my eldest son is no more and it's unreal.
I am told that around here, most people feel that I have handled/am handling our tragedy well, but that it is my husband who is most upset.  Ah well!  I am too used to being the shoulder that is cried on to be easily able to reverse that role.  I have fixed a rather large plaster over the wound, made out of reading favourite books and listening to Jazz, mostly Latin jazz, music I love, (which has no associations with my son) and I am way too scared to even think about looking under the plaster, because I am so sure the scab will come away with the plaster too.

I was looking back over my blog posts and I found this post I had posted about my eldest son and now, one year later he is no more. It is so unbelievable.  I had been so happy for him, at where he was in his life, the past year especially, and how happy he was and how mellowed he had become; how proud he was of what he was doing, how he had come to terms with his disability.  When he and his wife drove away from here, his childhood home, on the first of Jan, who thought that it would be the last time ever he would be doing that trip.  He had had so many things planned for this year, all not to be.
I read an online article about death--that there is no real death, that the energy that makes up a person just moves into an alternate universe.  Whatever death is, wherever the soul/the essence of a person goes after dying, for his/her loved ones, the fact is they are no longer where we are.  I can no longer touch his springy hair, give him a hug, see the brilliantly coloured tattoo on his arm, watch his lovely long fingers play the guitar, hear him belting out songs old and new, hear his ''So how are things, what's up at home?'' regularly once a week on the phone, mostly calling to talk to his father.  He was the one all the younger cousins went to, to solve problems, to get answers to stuff, to just talk and laugh with too.  The 'why,why whys' still come up in my mind.  But of course, there are no answers.  We just have to accept and deal with the reality of his physical absence.

Life moves slowly on.  It's almost two months since my son passed on.  In the day, when I'm reading or pottering about the house, when my eyes are wide open, it's ok; but in the dark sometimes the memories come, like a video and then it's difficult.
Well, my grandson is coming to spend part of his summer holidays (as large a part of it that he can).  We'll go fetch him this week, as his holidays begin on the 5th.  I know he is looking forward to it with great excitement and grandpa is busy recording movies for both of them to watch together, apart from planning possible trips out of town with him :-)
His sister has agreed--for the very first time--to come and spend a few days with us, without her parents, towards the end of the month, mainly because her mum (my daughter) has to go out of town.  She has promised her mother that she will be alright.  Once she also comes, I'm sure I'll be too busy to while away time in front of Facebook etc!