#7

1000 miles/ 1600 kilometers we moved away from what we called our home for almost ten years. Today 10 months ago was the last time I spoke to my forever 19 year old. 10 months since the awful morning of our dog waking us because of a police officer banging on our door. What a journey. Our move was a shit-show, filled with love. If it wasn’t for our family and very close friends I don’t know what today would look like. But we are here. We are with family and we are not alone. Life is shifting.

1000 miles…in between a mothers worst nightmare. But okay, everyone knows that by now. It’s surely not just a mothers worst nightmare, however, I reserve the right to think so because I, the mother, carried, labored and birthed this boy – with no pain medication or any numbing agent (not that it makes a difference). I pushed the baby out of my vagina just as I was born to do. I was stitched back together without numbing agent…wanna cuss, the FUCK fit’s well here…Like my mother, like my ancestors, I birthed my first born into this life and it was the first time I ever felt what unconditional means. Think what you want. I will reserve this right out of pure love.

1000 miles separate me from where I am still fighting for justice. Justice for my kid. My kid’s life was cut short, nobody asked me for permission. HAHA… I took the liberty, took matters in my own hands and I am fighting. The support is incredible, Starting with my dearest hubby and our family, reaching to friends never leaving our sides no matter the distance. The love is strong. The love is incredible. People have been nothing short from offering help. We are so far away, yet, not alone. I feel I am being held by an unbreakable net. A bond weaved together from love, and probably some anger, too. Anger for us. People are angry with us over the mess.

1000 miles are nothing when it comes to love. Nothing! But may I share what comes with it…the unbearable emotions grief hold in my case…

We live in a place I’d like to consider somewhat close to heaven. There is nothing but trees, trees, never ending trees. The woods have always felt like home. We have arrived. I left WNC with my three kids in tow. My hubs had to stay behind unexpectedly because of sudden vehicle and trailer issues. At the end of the week he was picked up by his father and uncle, with two additional trucks and a trailer to haul our truck. This entire maneuver is a whole separate story for the books. He is here now. The two oldest are still out of state for the summer (I dropped them off on my way to our destination and proceeded the travels with our one year old). I left home to our new home which is where my hubby is from. We were expected to arrive together. But we didn’t.

I can write alot about this one event because there are so many relevant matters tying into why I feel the way I do. It’s hard to stick with the point, especially when the point always is “damnit, my son is dead”. Okay. With that being said, here is my struggle, the hurt, the pain:

I am very much a believer of the after life. In my bones I feel Ryan living a parallel life to this one. Here, on this earth, in a different realm. Imagine it kinda like being on psychedelics, hehe. All these beautiful things you see but in reality, without the altered state of mind you don’t see them. So I imagine the kid living this life parallel to ours. When we lived in NC I felt him a lot, daily. I heard him speak to me. The signs were countless. He was always here. Now, it’s gone. I feel nothing. I have felt Ryan one time since moving away. This was in my mother in laws office where he stayed when we visited. She made him a nice little bed in a cozy nook there. It was before my hubby arrived when our little guy walked into her office, I followed him to guide him out of it- and there it was suddenly. My entire body started tingling. I felt very much held and very warm and protected. He was right there. I closed my eyes and told him how much it meant to me that he made himself noticeable to me. It felt good and it seemed I was on the right track. This was roughly three weeks ago. The little guy left the room again, I went along to follow. With leaving the office Ryan was gone. Since then he has not made himself available to me. I haven’t felt him nor have I really heard him either. All I do is miss him unbearably.

We moved into my hubby’s grandparents farmhouse. A beautiful red brick house built in the early 1900s with a family operated Christmas Tree Farm. I guess beautiful doesn’t really cover it all. However, his ‘Pa’ passed away and right after, we conceived. [When daddy saw the little guy on the ultrasound the first time -during COVID, it all was via FaceTime, our little wolf waved at him while chilling with his legs crossed :)] Personally, I thought it was him. His Pa. Weird stuff, but I chose to believe in it. The little boy loves this house and roams it like he’s known nothing else. Pa passed away here. It is very personal and much filled with meaning to my hubby and I.

But where is Ryan?

Did I forget him? Did he not jump on any of the four rides he could have gotten on to? Is he still on his way here? Is he still working on a different lesson he was given before being able to join us here? Am I too closed up and scared of ‘forgetting my son’? Did he not come? Is he still in WNC? Where did I go wrong? I didn’t hold enough space! I didn’t pray sufficiently! My believes area all wrong! I let my kid down! I failed him again and he’s not even here…

Did I move too soon? Will I ever get closure? Is closure something I even want? Why even? I don’t want to close anything. I don’t want to finish something? I don’t want to come to terms. Honestly, what I want is [obviously next to having my kid as human living with me] a shift. I want a shift in how I perceive things. A shift in the way I label his story ending (why would I want to label this story ending?!?)… A shift in what I don’t want to label, I guess.

I don’t want to think of death being a bad thing. I want to view it as another school. Another school for the soul. We are in different levels of school depending on what we have or have not accomplished, what we have learned – or not, in this experience. Things we have applied or not applied. A parallelism in life, whatever it may look like. I want to feel my son again, I want him close. Maybe a shift in how I view things from whom and what I am, the creation I am. I want to not judge the experience I am making but rather live it as is. Presently.

I think about my Karma from previous lives my soul has experienced. What the fuck have I done? Are my debts paid? I mean, I was really not that great of a teenager – really I was a bit of a jerk, a big ol’ jerk to my rents for sure. I stole money from them, I ran out at night to hang with the others from my town whom didn’t have a curfew…but that does not deserve this kind of Karma? Yet, who am I to judge?! Maybe I was a killer in a past life- well hell, then I must have really learned something during this time period because I find I turned out alright after my teen years. I do however believe that we get what we deserve and that’s when we need it the most or it has the most learning impact.

Fast Forward: I drafted this entry two days ago. Yesterday was a ‘good low’. I am genuinely starting to love shitty oxymorons. I spoke with our dearest Omi. She is the crone in my life. Tears were shed. Doors were opened. Mental shifts occurred in a very unspeakable but profound way. She understands me like no other. When our Skype visit came to a close she sent me outside. Outside where there are no walls, no bounds, no frames, no obstacles, nothing but the mother. Nature. The Whole. The All. And there He was. In the light. In the breeze. In the dandelion. In my 1 year old. In my heart. My soul…In the Monarch accompanying little wolf and I on our walk within the trees. My sweet Ryan. All my love!