Clearly, I am not as good at my new therapy as I hoped I would be. Seems life just comes at you full force and all the things you want to write down, all the things you want to remember just escape with the next crisis that hits. Work has been crazy, dealing with the house has been crazy and dealing with Justin's estate has been crazy.
We got most of his stuff brought up to Oklahoma so we can start organizing it. Certain things have gone to certain folks, and there is more to sort and send and give. I cant possibly keep it all - and if I did I would end up living in a museum dedicated to Justin. I know that the people receiving these things will take care of them and cherish them so its the RIGHT thing to do. I like the idea of the people who loved him having mementos and things that bring them joy with memories. Its a FAR more comforting feeling than having his stuff in storage.
Things are still pretty rough. I have Justin's ID on my IM client, its set to always stay visible regardless if its active or not. Every day I look and see it - hoping it turns green, hoping that its all a nightmare or some horrible misunderstanding. Its an issue of living in denial and sometimes its the only thing that gets me through the night. I have dreams all the time that he is still alive and that he was playing a joke on us, or hiding out for what ever reason. Every dream ends with me being so happy to find him, and talk to him, and then with him telling me he has to go, and me asking if he will come back. In a way, I know he is dead in my dream, but I don't think my mind wants me to believe it. Sometimes when I wake up I have to remind myself that I SAW his body. I sat next to him for hours at the funeral home, hand on his still chest. I counted the seconds hoping that he would somehow start breathing again.
At first, I wasn't sure if I would be able to see him still and cold. I didn't think I could bear it. But the funeral director told me that while some people choose not to have a viewing, the ones who do are always grateful for the chance to say goodbye. Sometimes having that person there physically makes a difference. It did for me. I was so lucky to spend those hours with him. I was the first person in the room with him, escorted by Ed and Justin's Texas St. Guard commanders. The Guard had dressed him in his dress blues, made sure his medals and badges were correct and they put his hat on him. He looked so very handsome. I got to stay with him a few hours by myself before anyone got there. I sang to him, something he always had asked me to do and I never had the guts. So I did. I sang an old Irish song for him. I didn't care if anyone else heard, it was for him. I got the chance to tell him everything I wanted to tell him. I read a letter that I wrote to him. And I just sat with him with out saying a word for a very long time.
The viewing started early in the day because I knew allot of people would want to come. We had many of his things spread out around the room for people to see. There was a musical slide show of some of his pictures that I had on hand. I wanted everyone who was there to be able to talk to him if they wanted, and stepped out a few times to give others their private time. I know Justin had many friends and many people who loved him dearly so I wanted it to be open to them.
That night, I stayed until the funeral home closed, and I was there before they opened the next morning. I knew I only had hours to be with him. It would be the last time I could see his face in person and touch his hand. I got to sit with him until they took him away to the memorial site and then I watched as they pulled his casket out of the car and thought I would die on the spot from it. Seeing all the people he loved, lined up to take him to the priest was amazing. There had to have been over 40 pallbearers there.
The service was beautiful and moving. Many people spoke including the Commander of the St. Guard, his best friends, and I spoke last. The priest blessed him and the Guard had a trumpeter play taps. There were helicopters flown overhead for him and finally, we played his favorite song LOUD for everyone to hear.
Then it was time to say goodbye. The pallbearers took their places, lead by the bagpiper and honor guard and they led Justin's coffin back to the vehicle to take him back to the home. I had him cremated because he didn't want to be put in the ground. He made me swear it that if anything ever happened to him that I would never put him in the ground so I kept my word. There is symbolism that I didn't know about with funerals. When they take the body back, or start to bury the body - you don't walk with it. I thought I was suppose to follow behind, but the director told me that this was my time to watch him leave as a symbol of letting go. Of knowing I could not follow him to where he was going. I have to say I really wasn't mentally prepared for that bit. It still feels like a dream/nightmare. All I kept thinking that it was such a beautiful day, the kind of day Justin loved, sunny, warm with a cool breeze. Strange for mid November. The grounds were beautiful too, still green from the summer, with the fall blooms in place, and just enough of the warm fall colors to make the whole area striking. We had his funeral in a large wooden gazebo next to the little waterfall in the center of the gardens.
A good number of my family are buried in that cemetery. I have spent many a day sitting at my grandfather and grandmother's graves, cleaning their stones, talking to them and just wanting to be close. I never thought in a million years I would be holding Justin's funeral there. It still doesn't seem real.
"
Dearest Justin,
My life is crazy. None of this seems real sometimes, and other times its TOO real. I miss you so very much, and I can barely get through some days. You are helping me though, I can feel it. I know that every day you help me get a little further along. All the things you taught me in life and in death have made my life better, and made me a better person. I still have allot of rage inside that I cant figure out what to do with, and allot of resentment and disgust that I need to find a way to get rid of. Never did have your ability to be a duck and let it all wash away. But slowly I am learning to be more like you. I don't think I will ever have your patience and your kindness - I am too burned and charred for that at least for the time being. But I hope that one day, someone will tell me that I am like you. Just like I used to dream of the time when someone would tell me I was like grandaddy. I know you are up there with him and your 2 wonderful grandpas causing all kinds of chaos - where ever yal are. I hope that you visit me soon - in what ever way you can. I miss you more than I thought humanly possible. Give Chelsea and Buggy and Akira and Kiri and Musashi and Sanjiro and Usagi a kiss for me. I know they are with you. I will love you forever, and no amount of time will ever dull that. I still have my little bronze pony - my muse. You asked me if I still had it, and I do and its on my desk next to your picture where it always has been and always will be.
love
me
"
