in the present

Original date 21 January 2012

Brian loved Calvin and Hobbes.

A kid's pretend friend that he asked life's big and not-so-big questions to. A friend who always seemed to help guide him through his childhood.

Brian became that tiger to me when he died...he became the person I talked to for guidance...who I asked life's questions to. But the response I knew would never come from him...it would have to be felt and heard by me and me alone. But still, I asked. I screamed and cried for reasoning to this tragedy before me.

As time has passed though, I've noticed that fewer and fewer of those questions on life, do I want, or even need, an answer to. Just as a child grows up not needing a fictitious animal to guide their way.

In no way am I stating that I don't still lean on him in the toughest of moments, but I've realized that the moments where I have been the most incapacitated by grief, are when I have been thinking about nothing but the future, the world in front of me without him by my side.
2012 is carrying a new constant that I know would make him happy, and I know brings a smile to my face.

One I picked up along the way in 2011.

A constant that freed me from the constraints of life that my pain and loss had me chained down with...had imprisoned me with its uncertainty.

The constant of living now...and nothing more.

I know the future will be what I make of it, but my present...my present was awaiting me to embrace it...and for more than just a second...I have done so.

Lately, I have been excited to wake up. Only because I have a list of things I want to do...things in the day I have planned and am looking forward to doing. Small things, once in awhile big things.

At first I thought...have you forgotten already? Then I realized no, I am living. Living in the present.

I know Brian would have wanted that.

But the intense grief comes because it is the realization that it is just me now. I am on my own. Making my own decisions.

My comments are statements now are not questions...along the line of "I know you might be wondering what I am doing but I have a plan...I think."

Sometimes I imagine his comments back. But it's different now.

I am here.
Living.
I am so surprised and so grateful.