coloring his world

just a quick post to say a heartfelt thank you for all the kind words, and support. It means the world to Terron and I. I've gone back to reread the comments many times already. In the not too distant future, I will return your regularly scheduled programming -- posting about running, triathlon, and the things I intended this blog to be about, but bear with me as I use my blog to jot down some memories and feelings, as I don't really want to start another one for this purpose.

Terron's talking about his dad, a lot, which is great. We took him to the beach yesterday to throw around a football and enjoy the day. As we arrived, he told us how whenever he goes there with his dad, they make sure to wake up early to get good parking. He also allows himself to cry, so I know he's not just trying to act tough and turn off his feelings.

Today is the first day back to school, and he asked to go. I called the school to let the receptionist know, who put a note in his teachers mail slot. The principal called me within the hour to get the information for the funeral as she'd like to attend to support him. Terron touches everyone he meets, he's special that way. The outpouring of love over the last few days for him (and I) has been incredible. Some of our neighbors (my age) even took him out for ice cream on Sunday evening, and he talked about his dad the whole time; they were awesome and just listened.

I wonder if we truly see things as black and white. Is everything around us different shades of dark and light, and do love and happiness make us think we see color?

As seen through the eyes of my 10 year old, hours after learning his father had passed, within an hour of saying 'goodbye' at the hospital - - Driving home, close to 1am, everything was dark, but a few other cars and some streetlights. He's staring out the window, obviously many thoughts going through his all-too-young mind. All of a sudden, he breaks down, throws his hands up in the air letting them clap back down on his lap, his voice loud and filled with fear says "Mommy, look at this world now! It's so dark and boring! There's nothing here, it's so boring!" After parking the car in the underground and emerging from the little hut, we're walking through the playground where he spends hours each day playing with his friends, his voice quiet to not wake up the neighbors "look Mom, even here it's dark and boring without my dad in this world." I have literally felt my heart crumble to pieces watching him over the last few days.

Tonight is the viewing and the funeral is tomorrow morning. I've been strong and weak all at the same time. The thread that is holding me together at this moment is starting to fray...

I adore my son more than anything in this world; he colors my world. Now I have to say goodbye to the one that helped bring him to me. Off to get some more kleenex.