What I Want

March Madness for some; March Sadness for us as the 2-year mark approaches.

I’m back to making lists, like I did in the early months. Now: What I Want.

What I really want: while gazing out the window one day to see him walk up the drive, whole and healthy, smile spreading as he sees me, bearing gifts from his 2 years away, telling me it was all a big mix-up; he’s sorry, he’s back, he loves me, stop worrying.

I can’t have that, so I focus on other things.

I want to remember Noah always, healthy, happy, himself.

I want to dredge up more family memories, hear memories I never knew from his friends, see photos I never saw--recover memories of his life till they outweigh those of his death and decline.

I want Noah’s young friends and relatives to talk about him openly, remember him always, and cherish their precious lives. I want to stay in touch with all of them.

I want to have all the time I need to grieve and write.

 I want to keep sensing, when I see certain pictures of him, that his beautiful green eyes are still looking right at me, as if sitting at the kitchen table.

I want to feel his presence when I expect it, like at the ocean, and when I least expect it, anywhere, anytime.

I want to see Noah in my dreams and recall what I saw when I wake up. I want to feel his love and hear the message he has for me.

I want to look at the star jasmine that blooms so sweetly in the yard in March and remember Noah’s spirit--not the deadening of it and the funeral and all the people who came to the house in spring of 2013.

I want to design a beautiful memorial bracelet for him and wear it every day. I want to look at it and remember his loves and our love for him and have people ask me about it so I can talk about him.

I want to understand his state of mind and what happened. I want to understand why young people kill themselves.

I want to meet more mourning moms and talk, walk, cry, and heal with them.

I want my words to move people and help people.

I want to find a way to memorialize Noah that helps other young people who are struggling.

I want to cherish always within reach my love, tenderness, and compassion for him.

I want to sustain the intimacy and more open communication we have with some treasured friends and family since this loss--and be there for them when they need us.

I want to spend more time with my living son and hold him close, never taking him for granted. I want him to find a way to deal with life’s sadness so it won’t overtake him. I want him be happy.

I want to be inspired by Noah to live more fully and freely in the moment--to seek out friends, fun, adventure.

In prayer or meditation, when I focus on breathing in ahavah (love) and breathing out simcha (joy), I want to be in touch with the love we had with Noah and the joy he brought us without feeling bitter. And I want to be open to the possibility of love, joy, and even celebration as we restore our lives.