You are not there

I was listening to Pandora, innocently.  And then the song “You’re not there” by Lukas Graham started to play.  And before I knew it, tears were falling from my eyes.

I looked into Lukas Graham after hearing this song for unbelievably the first time, or atleast hearing the lyrics for the first time and he lost his dad in September 2012.

I then decided to listen to the song on youtube, like a dozen more times.  While listening to the music, I would close my eyes.  The only thing I could see clearly is Aaron and then one of the last photos he has with his daddy Jay.

Recently, Aaron has been asking more about daddy Jay.  I have to take a deep breath and explain again that daddy Jay’s heart broke and the doctor’s could not fix it.  He has started to ask questions like “Did daddy Kelby know daddy Jay?”, “Do you miss daddy Jay?” and “So, daddy Jay is in heaven, right?”  The answers are “no”, “everyday” and “yes”.  The hard part is not knowing what the next question will be or when it will come.

I have been going through more of Jay’s stuff lately.  That stuff  early on I just threw into plastic tubs in hopes I would never go through them again.  Somehow magically, all the emotions would go away but the memories would stay.  Atleast that was my hope.

As I go through box after box, I realize some of the memories cannot be remembered without emotion.  I realize, I not only have to talk about Jay to Aaron like I have since May 9th, 2012 but I also have to share so much of his dad he does not know at all.  I am the one who knew him best.  I have to share his love for Monopoly and tell him I only played Monopoly with his dad once.  Yes, ONCE.  He loved Monopoly and was terrible to play with.  ABSOLUTELY terrible.  HA!  He was obsessed with geocaching.  It was a great way to get out of the house and explore.  He even made a point of geocaching on our honeymoon.  And I let it be part of the plans because I was promised the second half of the honeymoon was strictly pool and beach. 🙂 I get to tell Aaron he can blame his dad for his larger than normal feet.  And he can compare his feet with the one pair of his dad’s shoes I kept.  I am going through the stuff again because I have some time to do it and when Aaron goes through it some day, I want him to know what he has is what symbolizes his father best.

There are days I am thankful Aaron was so young when Jay passed.  I could focus more on my grief and not break more each day by Aaron’s grief as well.  And then there are days I wish he had more memories with his dad so I did not feel the heartbreak now when I tell Aaron more about his daddy Jay.  What I do know is the last 6 months of Jay’s life were his best.  I do not remember a time in the 10 years I knew Jay where his smile was as big as it was as when he held Aaron.  I can only hope Aaron can see and feel that about his daddy Jay.

Until the next question and the next answer I have to give, all Aaron knows is his daddy Jay is not here.