What He Taught Me

"Hello, love. For you, I have so many words."

- Ben Howard, I Forget Where We Were

It's been sixteen months since you've been gone. I still can't believe it.  I say "gone", but what I really mean is that it's been sixteen months since you left your (beautiful) body.  When I spoke at your memorial service, I quoted one of my most beloved books, A Course in Miracles. "You are not a body. You are free..."  I really believe that, Trey. You were never a body.  You were and are a soul with a body, as I believe we all are, you being no exception. 

Does that make it any easier?

 Hell no. 

 Have I been angry with God, or whatever I had previously conceived him or her to be? Absolutely. 

But one thing has been constant. I feel you, Trey. I feel you everywhere. I see you in everything. I hear you in my thoughts. I feel you dwelling in the depths of my soul, squeezing your way into places I didn't even know existed. You have changed me on a molecular level. 

Trey, you have been my greatest teacher. That's one of the many, new and beautiful aspects of our relationship now. You have taught me the beautiful things, the humbling things, the hard things. You teach me to be brave when I don't feel like it. You teach me that love never dies, it changes.  You teach me that we're all just visitors to this time, to this place and that it's all so very temporary. You teach me not to sweat the small stuff (and guess what? It's all small stuff...) You teach me about the goodness of humanity and that given the opportunity, most people will rise to the occasion. You teach me that I have to have faith in the things I can't see or understand. 

You teach me to forgive, and love more deeply.  You teach me to live more fully, because that's my promise to you.  I will live for the both of us, baby. And I swear, I'll make you proud. Almost as proud as you've made me. I love you endlessly, my Buddha babe.  I am yours and you are mine. 

Forever, 

Mommy