I remember as a teenager I was so confused about why graduation was called "Commencement" since it was the celebration of the end of high school or college, not the beginning. And then someone, I wish I could remember who, told me it was called Commencement because it was the START of a whole new adventure in life, and it made sense, this beautiful celebration of a new beginning, a new chapter as the last one left so many things unsaid and undone.
How do you plan a commencement for a box of ashes? An 18th birthday for a chasm of despair? There are no more chapters in his book, and I am left to write the Epilogue.
I think of golden tassels with '24 dangling from rear view mirrors, windows rolled down as the tassel tangles and blows in the wind, buddies laughing from the back and passenger seats, a filthy rap song blasting on the radio.
I'd give all the money I ever could have made to hold you just one. more. time.
Your friends help pick the song to play for your part of the Graduation slideshow. I am grateful for their help, even as my stomach knots in despair thinking of the empty chair for you sitting on the field.
My life is nothing but empty chairs these days. No one wants a seat at this table.
Nothing in my brain makes sense anymore, it's just disjointed thoughts and memories of you cascading and pushing me into the next moment without you, and then the next, and then the next. You are nowhere and everywhere in this prison of a house, and I only let myself smell your special death anniversary candle once a week, on Wednesdays at 7:30pm, but I tell you that I'm sorry every other minute of the week.
I hate myself, if you want to know the truth. Some days I think if I just could have been a better mother, if I could have had a better mother and father to show me...but no, no, this is on me, it's not their fault. They were victims of trauma-filled childhoods too, and here I was so certain that if anyone could break the cycle it was me.
But all the men in my family are gone, and I am the common denominator. Father, Son, Brother--souls lost to addiction and mental illness. On days when I feel very evil I am grateful that 2 were not able to procreate.
Some cycles require death to end them. But I never meant for you to be collateral damage. I never meant for me to be it either.
Ava came to me last night a little tearful and I asked if she was ok. "I was just driving home in the dark alone and I guess it just hit me that he is really never coming back. I am never going to see my brother, ever again. And it just hurts so much sometimes." She was never meant to be an only child.
You would have turned 18 in 12 days, but instead you will always be 15. No birthday. No Commencement. No celebrations of great accomplishments and exciting future plans. No college. No life.
Wherever you are, I hope that your happiness is commencing. I love you, and I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough mom for you.
