Four years.
That's a long time. Longer than I figured it'd feel at this point. To clear up, this isn't a Kahlil story or anything. This is about Loss, an article I wrote four years or so back, might actually be three for that article. Hard to tell when 1969 is the year it was apparently posted. Still gives me a giggle. Anyway, four years today is the day my wife went into surgery to cut the cord to my son, Garrick, during his and Wren's pregnancy. I've gone into detail about it in that, and here if you wanna read up on the circumstances. This isn't about what happened then.
This is about now.
See here, an average looking white guy and their healthy, whole son. In the past eight months I've lost 130 pounds. My son has started to learn how to read, ish. He knows letters and numbers fairly well, hasn't figured out how to put them together. But he's only three so I guess I can wait to get him into DnD for a bit longer. Doesn't change the fact he is smart. He understands so much. Tonight I had him help me make dinner. Pasta, boiling water, hot surfaces. He understood all of it, avoided playing around. Helped me put the pasta in and stir it all up. Did an amazing job (Well, he didn't do much but the point was he understood to be safe). He's playing puzzle games on his tablet. The complete a path stuff, super simple problem solving that gets steadily more difficult.
Eventually things like metal blocks are introduced, which sink in water or turn bright red if put in front of a fire. He's cleared the whole game and all it's puzzles (There's even more. Crystals and lasers, springs and drop offs, water and wood, so on and so on) and started the speed run version. By himself. He's using a crazy amount of words correctly that I'm still terrible at myself, to the surprise of his teachers in preschool (not how bad I am at english, him. I promise I'm no worse than the average adult).
He's growing up so well. And I've taken steps to make sure I'm not just there but able to be part of it. I've been so focused on that, on now and tomorrow, that I even forgot what today was. And I don't think that's a bad thing. Today was the hardest day my wife and I had to go through. When I was reminded by a friend, I reminded her, and we both kinda got embarrassed that we even forgot in the first place. Spent the day gaming while Wren was at school (She finally beat Horizon Forbidden West), and I truly don't think it's a bad thing that we did forget. Should we keep forgetting? No, I don't want the memory of Garrick to fade. But I also don't think it's something that needs to consume our lives.
Last year we spend the day together in quiet tears, watching some shows but mostly holding each other. No talking, just sitting in bed thinking about it all. This year, yeah. Gaming. Some conversation, some holding each other. But no tears. Just smiles. Time heals all wounds. And regardless of how bad the scar is, we can look back without all that pain. It's not that we're numb to it, we just have so much more to be happy about now. So much to help fill that void and keep us not looking back, but forward.
Anyway this was kinda a ramble. All this usually are. Guess it's kinda like a diary in that sense. If you read it, thanks. If it helps to know that whatever pain you might have now won't last forever, I'm glad and I hope truly that whatever you might've gone through or are will get easier. It does, sometimes.
-ThatNonbinary
PS: Yeah I look like an average white guy. Don't get it confused though, I sure as hell am nonbinary.
That's a long time. Longer than I figured it'd feel at this point. To clear up, this isn't a Kahlil story or anything. This is about Loss, an article I wrote four years or so back, might actually be three for that article. Hard to tell when 1969 is the year it was apparently posted. Still gives me a giggle. Anyway, four years today is the day my wife went into surgery to cut the cord to my son, Garrick, during his and Wren's pregnancy. I've gone into detail about it in that, and here if you wanna read up on the circumstances. This isn't about what happened then.
This is about now.
See here, an average looking white guy and their healthy, whole son. In the past eight months I've lost 130 pounds. My son has started to learn how to read, ish. He knows letters and numbers fairly well, hasn't figured out how to put them together. But he's only three so I guess I can wait to get him into DnD for a bit longer. Doesn't change the fact he is smart. He understands so much. Tonight I had him help me make dinner. Pasta, boiling water, hot surfaces. He understood all of it, avoided playing around. Helped me put the pasta in and stir it all up. Did an amazing job (Well, he didn't do much but the point was he understood to be safe). He's playing puzzle games on his tablet. The complete a path stuff, super simple problem solving that gets steadily more difficult.
Eventually things like metal blocks are introduced, which sink in water or turn bright red if put in front of a fire. He's cleared the whole game and all it's puzzles (There's even more. Crystals and lasers, springs and drop offs, water and wood, so on and so on) and started the speed run version. By himself. He's using a crazy amount of words correctly that I'm still terrible at myself, to the surprise of his teachers in preschool (not how bad I am at english, him. I promise I'm no worse than the average adult).
He's growing up so well. And I've taken steps to make sure I'm not just there but able to be part of it. I've been so focused on that, on now and tomorrow, that I even forgot what today was. And I don't think that's a bad thing. Today was the hardest day my wife and I had to go through. When I was reminded by a friend, I reminded her, and we both kinda got embarrassed that we even forgot in the first place. Spent the day gaming while Wren was at school (She finally beat Horizon Forbidden West), and I truly don't think it's a bad thing that we did forget. Should we keep forgetting? No, I don't want the memory of Garrick to fade. But I also don't think it's something that needs to consume our lives.
Last year we spend the day together in quiet tears, watching some shows but mostly holding each other. No talking, just sitting in bed thinking about it all. This year, yeah. Gaming. Some conversation, some holding each other. But no tears. Just smiles. Time heals all wounds. And regardless of how bad the scar is, we can look back without all that pain. It's not that we're numb to it, we just have so much more to be happy about now. So much to help fill that void and keep us not looking back, but forward.
Anyway this was kinda a ramble. All this usually are. Guess it's kinda like a diary in that sense. If you read it, thanks. If it helps to know that whatever pain you might have now won't last forever, I'm glad and I hope truly that whatever you might've gone through or are will get easier. It does, sometimes.
-ThatNonbinary
PS: Yeah I look like an average white guy. Don't get it confused though, I sure as hell am nonbinary.
