What I Can't Control

Memories are happy and sad. And they are triggered by just about everything. Swimming pools are one of those triggers. Gabe LOVED swimming. From when he was very small, going to a pool-any pool- was one of the things that made him happiest. Leaving the pool was always met with protests, sadness, and often tantrums.

When we moved into our Dayton house we hit the jackpot. Our next door neighbors had 2 wonderful dogs AND a pool! A pool that they let us use pretty much whenever we wanted. All three boys loved it, but Gabe was particularly focused on that pool. As Memorial Day weekend would get near he would watch from upstairs in Liam’s room- the room with the best view of the neighbors yard. At any sign of a change near the pool he would watch even more closely. On the days when they would adjust chemicals, fill the pool, and get the deck ready they would see him upstairs waiting anxiously. We would get reports from Gabe on the progress “They must be getting the pool ready!”

In 2014 we got Gabe’s surgery date early in the spring. The date of surgery would be June 9. He would not be able to swim for at least 4-6 weeks after surgery. That news was pretty devastating for a kid who loved the water so much. Also that spring the neighbors decided to get a new, bigger pool. They knew that had to hurry to put it in so that Gabe could swim before surgery, so it became an effort between them, us, and the neighbor on the other side. We all teamed up one weekend and had a pool raising. It was a lot of effort, and every one of us was needed (except for one of my boys who I think snuck back home!). We put up the walls, got the liner in, and then used hoses from all of our houses to fill it quickly. It was done in time, and we even had a bonus day before surgery- his grade went to the Waterpark but he couldn’t go. His doctor didn’t want to risk any infections that he could pick up before surgery, so he and I stayed home that day and had the pool to ourselves. We swam and visited with the dogs. It was a good day, and I was so glad to have that pool since he had to miss out on another fun activity.

Now when they set up the pool it’s a bit sadder. I know we all miss him when that event happens. We always miss him, but at certain times it’s so obvious that his excitement isn’t there anymore and that really hurts.

We also belong to a community pool, and his absence is loud there too. Once we joined, every chance he got he wanted to go there. He loved seeing friends, and I know he also loved showing off his scar. Gabe was not a quiet kid. At all. He was one of the loudest kids I have ever known. When I would take the boys to the pool, no matter where he was, I could always hear him. Happy, sad, angry- I could hear him. I miss that. I miss the happy. I miss the sad and angry too. I still love going to the pool and talking with friends. I love seeing my other boys with their friends. But Gabe is missing and the hole he leaves can’t be described.

Today for some reason the little things are on my mind. When a child dies there are so many things that are different. There a huge things like the fact that they are just not there anymore. There are so many ways life is drastically different. The family schedule should be much more packed-but it’s not. The van that we own is now really too big but was totally necessary before. If we ever wanted to move we would be able to look at houses with one less bedroom. Going out to dinner or a movie is less expensive, so are vacations. But they shouldn’t be. That creates some intense turmoil.

Then there are the little things. They are kind of like grief landmines. These are small things that jump out as I go about my day, things that sometimes make me smile and cry at the same time. Partially to communicate how sucky the death of a child is, and partially for myself so I never forget the little things, I’m going to share some that have come up recently.

Groceries are some of the biggest of the little things. Gabe had lots of favorite foods. Before he got his braces Raisin bran was IT. I am convinced if that was all we would let him eat he would. We went through 3-4 boxes a week. His day would start with it, he’d have it as an afterschool snack, then sometimes before dinner, and usually for dessert. And it had to be Post, but not the post that Costco carries. Oh, no. The flakes are different. So whenever I’m in the cereal aisle I still look at the Raisin Bran boxes. I wish I still had to buy it.

When he had to stop eating raisin bran, he switched to bread with Nutella. I know, it’s horribly unhealthy. But some battles aren’t worth fighting. So we always had Nutella. He didn’t eat it quite as much as Raisin Bran, but he ate it a lot. So much that we would usually go through several loaves of bread each week. Today this love of Nutella and bread was triggered a bit because I had to throw out a loaf of bread because it got moldy. That never used to happen. Ever. It always disappeared long before it got moldy.

Gabe also LOVED milk. We went through 5-6 gallons a week. He would often have raisin bran AND a glass of milk. And not a small glass. A big plastic cup filled all the way to the top. Buying fewer gallons of milk was probably one of the hardest things for me. It was like getting slapped in the face every time I went to the store. We should be going through so much more milk.

There are so many other things he loved that trigger sadness- grilled cheese sandwiches, pancakes, Eggo waffles, and A&W Root Beer, which he is lovingly holding in the picture above. Our good friend and neighbor Jean always had that on hand, he loved going to her house!

As a result of all of those little quirky food related things grocery shopping is difficult. Extremely difficult. I find I can’t focus, and it’s so hard to complete the shopping that I need to do. Some days this one task is harder than others. So if you bump into me in the store and I seem off- that is why. Because for a grieving parent to keep themselves pulled together to walk through a store filled with grief landmines is a very challenging task.

Thanks for reading and getting a tiny peek into my world.