California reflections

I'm struggling to juggle two huge losses in such a short period of time and I feel like I'm swimming in deep grief for one and a more shallow grief for the other. My heart breaks at the loss of my grandmother, just yesterday morning, but at the same time, my heart was prepared for this for a while. That doesn't make the loss of my last living grandparent any easier, but it gives me more comfort than the loss of Billy just 20 days prior.

This was written on September 29, 2019 as we flew from LAX to Newark.....

The past 10 days have been the longest days of my life. I was saying that to Nanda this morning before we left their apartment. Normally when you ‘go away’ it seems like such a short trip. You get there and in the blink of an eye you are packing up, ready to leave. Not this time. This has been the longest 10 days of my life. Last Friday seems soooooooo far in the past. There was no blink of an eye here.

We are currently flying 37,000 feet somewhere over the US en route to our home in Pennsylvania. I’m listening to my ‘Billy Playlist’ and trying to collect all my thoughts about this trip to California. I thought I could use this time to recall, reflect, and release some of the emotions that seem to have me trapped like a hamster running on its wheel with no real end in sight, thoughts turning and turning in my head with no way to get them out. I know that’s not healthy and as my dearest best friend told me on Friday, I need to get out of my own head and listen to my heart. All I can think about is the trip as a whole; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. And perhaps that is ok.

From the time we hit San Diego on September 20 until this morning (September 29), we’ve been on a roller coaster of high points and low points and some extremely low points. There are parts of the past 10 days that I’d love to forget in their entirety, and while that would be so nice, I know that without the extreme low points I’d lose sight of the bigger picture and I’m pretty sure that is a more important thing to keep focused on.

We’ve been running on adrenaline and emotion and, quite honestly, it’s been absolutely draining. Together, we’ve had to do things that no parent should have to ever do. Together, we attended 3 California celebrations for Billy. Three. San Diego. Fullerton. San Bernardino. Together, we went to the California Dept of Vital Statistics to obtain death certificates - true gut punch as they were handed to us. Together, we greeted friends and listened to stories of Billy. Together, we cried. Together, we laughed. Together. 99% of the past 10 days was spent, together. As one.

But there was also a dark side. One I won’t write about because that is something I need to process and while I don’t think I’ll ever completely release it, I will not let it consume me, because I know that is not a healthy way to live. I have to try to remain the positive person I aim to be each day. As I type this out, a song by Needtobreathe is playing. It’s a song that I posted to Bill soon after Billy passed away. Forever on your side. It’s the reminder I need that regardless of the worst experience and absolute darkest place I had gone to this week due to some circumstances, I am forever on his side. And I will always be. I don’t know what’s around the bend, all I know is that my love, it knows no end.....

Music has always been a source of comfort and peace for me. I created this Billy Playlist of songs since his passing on September 10. I’ve also added songs to it that friends have shared with me, to help me cope with his death and everything that has come from it. As I listen to it, I smile and at the same time I feel the tears that have been bottled up, ready to fall from the corner of my eyes. And I think that’s ok.

I truly believe Billy placed people in my path during this difficult time so that I never was truly alone, even when I felt it. Jenny, Mike, Cam, Hallie, Big Steve, and even Joe and Nanda, even though I’d known Joe for about 12 years. Prior to California, there’s Nadya, in the OBX. All people who have been physically there for me but who, prior to Billy’s death, had only been names in stories or videos (except Joe and Nanda - they are family). The connections made with each of these individuals is something I will forever treasure and be thankful for.

I’m not sure if this will ever see the light of day or if I’ll keep it just for me to look back on, but an hour plus worth of writing and many songs later, my black hole of emotions doesn’t feel so dark anymore. And I know that’s a good thing.

As I look out the window at the vast expanse beyond the airplane window, I picture Billy in the clouds, grinning that Billy grin, and happy that I’m doing what I can to be whatever his dad needs right now and in the moments to come. I will miss my texts and reassurance when I needed medical advice or explanations. I will miss the joking about football. I will miss jah jah pizzas. I will miss his voice. I will miss his hugs. I will simply miss him.

I miss you, Kid. So very much.