Today two things happened that I have been putting off. I actually have been putting several things off since last October. I did handle a great deal and then I couldn't anymore. What was left would find its way when I found mine. Today we went to the DMV with your death certificate and removed your name from the car. The kids wanted to come with me. We sat in the office at the desk of a woman who was processing the paper work. That is what you have become as the once Bradley Holcomb...paper work. It's surreal you know. You have become this death certificate which is the holy grail to get anything done in your name. A flood of memories come in as I sit there watching your name being removed.... the day you purchased the car, named Big Red, for my 40th birthday; the many trips to the airport to drop you off and the Thursday's picking you up inside DIA and Lena running to your arms, John hugging your legs and your huge smile; the many trips exploring Colorado and the trip to Chicago for Godzilla Fest; the few months after your DWI when we sat in the car discussing removing your name then from the car because of legalities not knowing in 8 months it wouldn't matter; And the night a kind police office drove us to the hospital in silence to say goodbye to a body named Bradley. Then it was done. Boom. I looked at vehicle registration and it only bore my name now.
The second thing was my iPhone. I called last week and switched our talk plans. I remember when talk time was the prime charge and now it is data of course. Unlimited talk and text. I kept your name on it and kept the family plan so I could keep your phone on - John uses it and there is no way I can part with your phone number. I suspect that number will be forever a part of my life until a new technology replaces phones. Since we had insurance on the phone and I wanted 64G and all my pretty wallets will not fit an iPhone 6 - I went with another iPhone 5. It arrived Wednesday. It was time to wipe my current phone. Another flood of memories filled me... the white skirt I was wearing; you dressed in my favorite button down shirt that I found sexy; the warm breeze of summer in Boulder; Lena 4 years old and loving being held; leaving the AT&T store and the way you looked at me - taking that mental picture; the first phone you got me in 2003 and how you played it out like Neo in The Matrix; our joke that the only reason I married you was for a flip phone. I stared at my phone. I kept staring at my phone. Letting this phone go was the end of the story line between us.
I love you my dear. I'm sorry you must go through this. You are strong enough for both of us in the physical. I know that is not of comfort but it is true. I am here with you a different better way. In time you will see there is more than was lost. I am here. I know you miss my voice, my smell. I'm sorry I can't provide those anymore but you will see I can provide something deeper for you. I can provide what we talked about... connection to yourself in ways you have yet to know though following my vibration. We made this soul contract along while ago. We both wanted this. I wish I could ease the pain of your attachment to my physical. Time plus the choices you are making, and you are making them, will help ease that attachment. Remember the quote you just read "There is suffering until you decided there is no suffering". Know I love you and I am here.
Processing through our relationship I see my mistakes. I go to that dead end thought of 'If I had..." Who cares! It's over and trying to change the past is mental making. It catches me in that hopeless loop of if I had done this different or responded different, would it/could it have made a difference in your behavior. Augg! Lena pulled out videos of you from last year. Videos of you telling us how much you love us and miss us. We all sat in silence watching them over and over. Just taking in the words. John asked me how long before it was a year that you had been gone and I told him around 6 weeks. He said," So last year, we had 6 more weeks with Daddy?" I said yes and then he asked the question and it was THE question, "If we had known we only had 6 more weeks with Daddy, what do you thing we would have done different?" Silence. Tears roll down my check. Lena speaks first, "I would have gone on more bike rides with him and more walks on the Mesa." John says next, "I would asked for more hugs and I would have hugged him longer." Bradley, damn you, my words were all caught in my throat and then I said, "I would have asked him not to travel anymore. I would have played more board games with him and our favorites. I would have finalized paperwork and make sure all that silliness was done. I would have cuddled more with him and told him so many things I appreciate about him." Again that silence. That silence that isn't silence that is full of emotion.
It is true. The day I died is the day I never left. I wanted more than anything to spend more time with you all. And now I can. It is your job to keep the kids connect to their hearts. That is where they can find me. I am ever present. Those experiences are gone. That relationship is gone. It is the ash that will grow the new. Those memories are the fertilizer for a new relationship with me. Tend to our garden Lucretia and let us grow.