7 Months | the firsts continue

Tommy will have been gone for 7 months this week, on January 12th. He’s been showing up in lots of my dreams lately although many are fuzzy. I remember them when I wake up but they’re gone soon after. They often wake me out of my sleep and it seems that many of them recently have included me telling him how he died, or reminding him in some way. Like any dreams, they’re very disjointed, have many characters and are confusing overall. I would like to write them down, and actually bought a journal to have bedside, but have yet to write anything. I suppose if it’s important enough to me, I’ll make the effort.

Have you seen the new series on Netflix, Surviving Death? Well, I’ve been binging it and while I’ve been crying a lot, it really emphasizes my beliefs that this isn’t it. Tommy is still here - his energy hasn’t disappeared. Odd things happen every so often and I know it’s him. I was in the middle of a phone call with Peter recently and came to a point in our road where calls usually drop off and get disconnected. Our call was interrupted by a sound I can only describe as the noise that old movies had when there was a disturbance from outer space. The call didn’t disconnect and I stayed on. The sound continued for about 1-2 miles and in the middle of it, I swear I heard a deep whisper repeatedly saying “mom … mom … mom”. One of the things Tommy used to do that drove me crazy was to talk to me in a very deep whisper and he often would call out “mom” on repeat until I answered. The call finally dropped and I called Peter back right away. He also heard the noise but didn’t hear the whisper. I realize that this may sound crazy, but I guess I’ve gotten to a place, where in grief, I am searching and on the lookout for any signs that might make me feel closer to Tommy.

Christmas and New Years passed and were as good as they could possibly have been this year. I spent Christmas Day with Peter and my parents and a few days following with Peter in Joshua Tree which was really a special time. We were back in Montana for the New Year and lit a lantern for Tommy on New Years Eve and watched it ascend to the heavens. I’ve realized that it’s important to create new traditions and rituals and include Tommy in all of them. We toast to him regularly and we say his name aloud when anything unusual happens. I miss saying his name. Tommy. When he was born I wanted to name him Tommy, but we buckled under some sort of silly pressure to give him the more traditional name of Thomas. I always hoped that he’d stick with Tommy. I think that we name our kids without realizing how much we love their names. Of course, we love them, so in turn we love their names, but I couldn’t have imagined how much I’d miss saying his name out loud.

January 13th is my 52nd birthday. I don’t yet know how I’ll feel, but I’m anticipating 3 days of not great. The day before, the day of and my birthday. Another first. In a way I wonder if the reason that people say the 2nd year is harder is because they’re no longer firsts. The days aren’t new anymore - they’re the 2nd, the 3rd, and so on and life continues. I’ve been trying to come up with a plan for these 3 days, making sure that I’ll be busy without much downtime. I know that there will be sad moments, but I’m trying to live life and enjoy things as I know Tommy would want me to.

I miss him every moment of every day but I am looking for the light these days and I know that Tommy’s in it.