Honor

At 6:10 a.m. this morning I could hear Owen waking up. Goodness that boy doesn't cut his momma a break even today.

I realized immediately...today it's been a month. I know, I already blogged about that, right? What more to say?

Chris' best friend came by the house to check out a project for me. My bathroom is getting a make over. The sound of the sliding shower door makes my stomach turn as does the light brown color on the walls. I can't walk in there without wondering what Chris' last view of this world was. I need to reclaim this space. Death cannot have it. My bedroom is next.

As Brent was leaving I realized that he had come to my house at almost the exact same time one month ago. I remember the look on his face. I knew it was real. Strangely, I couldn't imagine what my husband would do on the other side without his best friend of 26 years.

Shortly after Brent left, I watched as a policeman walked up my front steps...then another, and another. At first I wondered if one of the kids had got hold of the phone again and accidentally called 911 like they did last summer. When I opened the door, I realized there were 5 policemen - all familiar faces from one month ago today. I wonder if their timing was purposeful.

Officer Stevenson gave me a card and spoke for the group. He told me how the call had impacted all of them and that they would not soon forget it. He had tears in his eyes. I have often reflected on the words Officer Stevenson spoke to me the day Chris died. We were sitting on my back deck, it was raining hard and the water was leaking through the deck roof. I kept apologizing to him that he was getting wet. I felt like I needed to be a good host. He told me his father died in an accident when he was 4. I asked him what his mother did. He told me his story, tears in his eyes, and offered a compassionate shoulder and an understanding ear. He told me I could do it. My kids would be OK. He told me the response of the people already at my house was amazing and that I would have support. I have thought often of this compassionate police officer and will forever appreciate the words of encouragement and the tears in his eyes. I also have to believe there was a reason he was on this call. He was there to connect with me. I needed someone to reign me in an tell me my Earthly life was not ending even if Chris' had.

Today, I cried. I shed tears for the fact that time moves on and pushes me further away from the comforting embrace of my best friend. I shed tears for the IPod that is sitting unused on my counter, for the drawers of clothes that no longer have an owner and for the 172 pages of the book he was reading that will go unread. I shed tears for the fact that there is no one here to wipe them away and keep the world at bay for me.