Haven't been here for a long while because I've been so busy and keeping myself distracted, but eventually the tide of grief washes over you again. There is really no outrunning it, is there?
It was feeling it tonight . . . you know, "I want my son, I want my son, I want my son." Thought I would drop in here and was glad to see your post sharing your vision in the graveyard, Paula.
I never had an experience like that one, but it heartens me to hear of yours. Like you, I feel certain I've had signs and that my son still exists in some way that I cannot know right now, and he is still with me. Even with the way I keep myself busy, I still think of him almost constantly . . . you know, that underlying hum that is just always there, and sometimes not so underlying.
I'm doing OK. I adopted two of my foster daughters and they have been a blessing. Also, I have been doing temporary care for babies that come into protective services, which has been great. I just keep them for anywhere from a day to a week or so. It really helps ease the pain of not having grandchildren yet (the girls are teens . . . Vince would have been in his 30s by now, but he was my only child and never had children). And it is just fun and distracting. Also . . . this may sound silly, but I repeat my son's full name to the babies several times before they leave to go home or go to a more permanent foster placement. It makes me feel like even though they won't remember, there will be someone alive, maybe even in 2100, who would have heard my son's name. I haven't told anyone that, because who would understand? But I know the parents here will understand.
Gosh, I miss my son. Just having one of those nights where I miss, miss, miss, miss my son.
My 15 yr old got to meet some of Vince's friends the other day, and she really enjoyed hearing the crazy stories about him (of which there are many), and I think they enjoyed being able to tell them. It was kinda hard on me, but good, too. The older girl has moved out with her bf (ACCKKK!! But that is another story.)
And we got a new dog. My 15 yr old, Roxy, picked her out. The new dog looks so much like Vince's old dog from when he was a kid and young teen, that I've accidentally called her by the other dog's name a couple of times; I've even occasionally called my daughter "Vince." I look around me, especially with this dog now, and wonder how deliberately I've tried to recreate the past. My daughter got into some mild trouble that reminded me so much of some stuff that happened when Vince was a teen. Then she picks out this black dog with white chest spot, white paws and white tip on its tail? Exactly like Vince's dog except somewhat heftier (not so skinny-Minnie).
More signs? I don't know, because Roxy is her own person, after all. But still, how weird it is to look around and think it could almost be 15 yrs ago, the way things are.
One thing, Paula -- I've wondered about it too, but no, I don't think anyone is a pawn in someone else's life lessons. Everyone has their own life and it's just as central and important as anyone else's. No one is a pawn, I don't think . . . someone else's life may influence yours or teach you important lessons, but that is not the reason for their existence or for what they went through, IMO.
Well, thanks for listening. Just having one of those nights where I can't stop missing Vincent.