Little boy gone.

Today is the Day, Internet.
January the 17th.
Two years ago today two people got up in the morning to get their kids off to school and one of the boys was too still and too pale.
And he stayed that way.
He doesn't laugh in the living room any more and he doesn't fight when he's getting changed any more.

Now, this doesn't mean that he's gone. I can still smell the smell of his little head from time to time. Just randomly. Like when I'm in the car going to work or taking his brother to church.

Why in the car? Well, hell. I don't know.

So what am I going to say two years later? That my heart is still more than a little bit broken? I'd assume that was pretty obvious.

That I still am not sure why he had to go? Well, I kinda do. So that doesn't count.
That the hole got filled in? It didn't. It probably won't.

What I am going to say is that this little piece of the path has taught me some things. Things I wish to hell I didn't know.

Things I wish nobody ever had to learn. But we do, don't we Internet? Cause nobody here gets out alive. We are all on the clock.

Morbid little thing, ain't I?

Today, yes I am. And I have to reiterate. It's my blog. Want sunshine and flowers? Come back tomorrow.

I have learned that the first year is not the hardest. Aww hells no. You're still in shock. The first Christmas and the first Easter and the first anniversary you're still in shock. It's the second year that'll get ya. Shock has a certain insulating quality to it. That's it's job. But by year two the shock is gone and just the raw nerves remain. The hole.

Year two is also far enough away from the main event that some of  people who had the grace to be respectful have lost that grace. There's a sense (and sometimes a direct statement) that it should be in the past and over with by this point. As though grief had an expiry date.

What utter absolute and not to be believed bull shit. Does joy have an expiry date? Or fear? No. Then why should grief?

I have learned that a great heart rending loss doesn't buy you any slack. People who want to be ass holes are gonna do it regardless of the shreds your heart is in. Now I never thought that having a heart ripped in two would cause the real world to go away permanently but I'm stunned that it doesn't at least buy some respect for the people who deserve it from the people who should know better.

Socio-paths are socio-paths after all.

I have learned that each loss links the mind and heart back to the greatest loss. Each loss regardless of the nature of that loss. Associated to the great loss or not your brain doesn't know the difference, it just feels the loss all over again. Nifty trick...eh?

I have learned the taste of panic. It's a little metallic and bitter with the knowledge of what could happen.

I have learned that there is a thing out in the world called complicated grief. Its a condition in which the psyche cannot reconcile the loss it has sustained. Some professionals are adept and handling it. Some not so much. It can cause you to stop in the middle of joy and feel guilty.

I have learned that love makes me fierce and anxiety makes me throw up.

I have learned that support can  come from unexpected  places.

What do I want today?

Well, I'll tell you Internet exactly what I want.
I want every person who reads this who has a child or loves a child to go and hug that child.
Feel their little heart beat. Feel their warm little hands and feet. Smell their little heads. Kiss their little faces.

And tomorrow when they get out of their little beds sleepy and tousled and looking for juice I want you to stop for a moment in your kitchen and be grateful. Today you don't know what its like to be in an empty kitchen with your heart in shreds and panic in your mouth.

I hope to hell you never do.

Anthony 's Cafe

Not long ago I did a post about customer service. I said it was a rare thing and I stand by that. When I listed places that provide it, however, I missed one spot. I kind of feel like a jerk about it, but hey. I'm fixing it now.
Maybe I missed Anthony's due to some subconscious need to set it apart from the other spots I've mentioned, it's pretty special to me.
I've known Kim and John the owner/operators of Anthony's for nearly 10 years. They know food. They know good food. They serve great food from scratch. This is food I've never worried would trip my food sensitivity switch and give me a migraine. Food I can count on.
Food I can count on is a special thing.
Anthony's is a special spot.
But I, admittedly am biased.
Anthony's was named after John and Kim's great nephew. Anthony died Jan 2011. He was 11.
I had known Anthony since he was about 4. He was born with Cerbral Palsey and spent his life in a wheelchair. He did not walk, he did not talk, he did not feed himself.
What he did do was affect the lives of those around him in profound ways. Ways that go all the way to the bone.
He was always excited to see me. He would yell and flail his little arms until I came over to his chair and gave him a kiss. Sometimes he would yell and stick his tongue out until I licked his face. Don't ask, it was an Anthony and Aunt Jen thing.
He thought it was an absolute riot when I showed up in a bathing suit one day to help his mother shower him. He laughed so long and so hard he ended up with shower water in his mouth.
His brother was his best friend. They would curl up together in his big bed and watch movies for hours.     He loved the Flintstones.
The day he died was the worst day of my life. The rest of that week wasn't any hell either.
But as with any horrible rotten no good very bad thing, we can learn lessons if we choose to. I learned what shapes family can take. I learned that I'm stronger than I ever thought I was, because I can still get up and get dressed and function if my heart is shredded. I leaned some things matter but many more do not. Not really.
I've learned that the grief and confusion of a child who lost his best friend is the most horrible thing on earth.

I'm not sure how I started writing about good food and ended up writing about a little boy who was lost too early except to say they're tied together for me. Kim and John named their cafe Anthony's to honour the memory of a little guy whom they loved and love still. They pour that same attention into feeding people. If you go to Anthony's, and I think you should, get the hamburger. And say hello to Anthony.