Monday, September 6, 2010

Getting better.

There's this feeling I get, nearly every day, when I realize Jesse is gone forever, as if realizing it for the first time and somehow in my mind I am crumpling onto the floor, while I seem to be standing up, perfectly fine. I may not actually be on my knees, but I feel it. I can hear myself screaming in my own head while on the outside I am calm.

And I asked myself today--is this any better? The pain of missing him has become more or less the same feeling as loving him. I see children who look a bit like Jesse did at a given age and there's some relief-- that there are still children? That I had Jesse in my life at that age? I can remember him without sobbing (mostly).

Looking at where I was 3 years ago, and where I am now, well; I can go all day without crying on the outside. It's not that I'm forgetting Jesse. It's just that I can make myself put off thinking about loss for a sustained period of time. It's an act of will. In a way, that's worlds better, but really it just means I have a little more control.

I don't want to forget him. I want to be able to be a full person even though he's gone-- a mother to his brother, a wife to my husband, a friend to my friends, and so on. It's just that every bit of love I feel for the world and the people in it has been touched by Jesse, and therefore, by loss. There is no world with no Jesse in it, not for me. It's just that I can't see him. Otherwise, he is always with me.


  1. I think your realization that you have the ability, at least somewhat, to control how much focus you place on the loss of Jesse, depending on the situation, is huge. Of course he's always with you Iso. He's a part of you. He'll always be a part of you, as it should be.

    You know that sappy line they always use, "Tony would have wanted the pizza eating contest to go on!" when people can't decide the proper way to carry on after a loss? I'm trying to figure out a less sappy way to say the same thing about Jesse without comparing your life to a pizza eating contest.

  2. Thanks Michael. It's hard to know what Jesse would have wanted, he was not what you'd call predictable. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life crying over him. That always pissed him off.

  3. Dear, dear Iso. My heart still breaks. But I wanted to let you know that your words, knowledge, strength & courage helped me face what is going on with our son.
    You'll never know just how much I appreciate your words & e-mails.
    I'm grateful that you have shared your son, his life, his stories & his blogs.
    Now I find myself paying it forward to parents that have just started going through their child having leukemia. I've learned so much these past few months & now forward the websites you forwarded to me. Your helping me has made it possible for me to now help others.
    I wonder if Jesse guided your hand to help others, so that they can help others & so on.

    In all your world travels, make sure you come it to AZ some time.


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