I sat last night at an end of the year banquet for Dereck and the R4 Robotics team. They have achieved so much in so many areas. They had a very moving slide show that encompassed the last four years of the team.
Even though Dereck is younger than many of the core team members. He has been a key part of the team and has traveled all over the state with them for the last 3 summers. As the pictures continued to flash across the screen, Dereck changed from a 10 year old, into the 15 year old he has become.
I was already crying because these kids have had such amazing opportunities under the careful watch of Shelly Gruenig. But then the loss started to seep into my mind as I realized that Shelly has more pictures of my son than I do.
I cried because in a room filled with 80 people, I know very few of them by name, and yet our lives have been woven together for years. I cried because I haven’t gotten to be apart of the festivities, the planning, or the competitions.I cried because once again as I struggle to regain “normalcy” I have to wrestle with the losses that have wrapped themselves around every aspect of my life.
I think one of the hardest parts about extreme loss is that when you muster the stamina and strength to once again participate in something. You then have to wrestle with the emotional weight of how extremely abnormal your life had become. And right in the middle of trying to be normal, you are once again astutely aware of all that was lost. I wonder when the waves of grief will cease to wash upon the shores of my life?