Another Sleepless Night - Brian

It's a little after midnight, October 31st, once again, I am having a sleepless night. Every time I close my eyes, to try to sleep, I have those horrific images of that fateful day back on September 15, 2016. The day my son, Ian, passed away.  

It has been a little over 2 years now and I still have those vivid images every now and again; that I just cant seem to get rid of.  Not that I want to get rid of them, completely, but I wouldn't mind them being replaced with better ones. Especially, when I'm trying to go to sleep. Those images lead in to the thoughts of still not believing in a way that he is gone. Taken from this world and our lives forever. Not a day passes where I would love to hug him, hold his hand, look in to his eyes, have him tell at me something or whatever, but those days are long gone (776 days gone to be exact).

This is a passage from a James Patterson book I just recently finished....Count to Ten:  A Private Novel:

“Tell me it gets easier, Santosh. Reassure me of that at least.” “It does. It really does. When you learn to leave behind all the guilt and regrets, the what-ifs and what-might-have-beens. It gets easier. It’s just that getting rid of those things is the hard part. Choosing how to do it is the trick.”

This says a lot to me. At times, still I feel guilty, but no regrets. I know Marci and I did everything we could for our little man. But part of me, every now and again, thinks about the what-ifs and what-might-have-beens. How can I not? As a father, you think about the things you'd do with a son or daughter. It's hard not to think of what would have been if Ian were healthy and still with us today. But as the last part of the passage says, It’s just that getting rid of those things is the hard part. Choosing how to do it is the trick.

Those are the things that will plague me for many, many years to come. Always thinking about what-if he was here with us today. What would he be doing or where would he be in life?

I suppose with our new normal each and every day, I'm learning how to get rid of those things little by little. That's certainly not to say I will ever forget my boy, my superhero.