I keep thinking about all those evenings we’d meet up at my parents’ house for one reason or another. After spending time with family, we’d drive home from Farmington, side by side, you in your van, me in the Honda. Each time we’d pass each other, we’d sign “I love you” in our windows to each other. The vision of you in your cute sunglasses and work shirt, looking at me and signing “I love you” through your car window is burned in my memory.

You’ve been saying “I love you” to me in many different ways lately, I know. I can’t explain all the ways, but these are some of the “I love you” signs I’ve been experiencing:

I’ve been sleeping in my parent’s basement. This basement is cold and always has been. It has a dungeon-like feel. When I was little, I was scared to be down here in the dark. I was even nerdy enough to sing songs to myself when Mom would send me down here to retrieve something from the freezer. So now that I’m here again, I’m determined to bring light into this dark place. I have four lamps and three overhead lights set to go—all on day and night. I have a ton of our pictures set up. I pull Harry right next to me. I sleep with some of the last clothes you wore. I sleep on your pillow, laced with your scent, and enveloped by the beloved “Johnny Depp” blanket we loved so much.
But when I’m trying to fall asleep at night, all these attempts to gain light still leave me feeling empty.
When those times come, I have felt you. I have felt an “I love you” sign while once again perusing your collection of poems and favorite quotes. In it you recorded some lines from a Billie Joel “Lullaby” song that says:
“The waters dark and deep, its rocking you to sleep…Goodnight my angel now it’s time to sleep and dream….”
When sleep eventually comes and those glorious visions of you flood my mind, I spend the entirety of my next day thinking about them.
In my dreams I have envisioned you walking toward me in a green field wearing a blue shirt, looking young and healthy, staring at me with such an intense and sincere expression, but saying nothing. I have dreamt of having the privilege of sitting down and talking to you, but time after time you have no response to my words. I have dreamt you were alive again, but to no avail you pay me no attention and leave me alone night after night without explanation. After all these dreams I’ve concluded that it’s my mind’s way of expressing this longing I have to hear something from you besides silence. I get so frustrated that silence is all I hear from you. Silence, silence, silence.
And then last week I had another dream of you. Again I had the privilege of sitting down and talking with you. I was crying and pleading with you to please, please talk to me. I needed to hear your voice. All you did in response was look me deeply in the eyes, still remaining silent. But this time it was as if, through that intense expression in your eyes, you somehow communicated to me that silence was just going to have to be okay, for it can’t be any different. You said to me that for now, we need to learn a new language to communicate with each other—The language of love, emotion, the Spirit.

I felt another “I love you” sign from you when, after pleading for some guidance concerning a decision I was making, I turned on your computer and found some notes you wrote concerning the very topic I was struggling with. Your words offered guidance.
It is in those moments, and in so many others I’ve had concerning all the big decisions I’m making, that you really meant it when you said in your last letter to me that “Always and forever I am here to serve and protect you….”

I feel “I love you” when I see Andi smile. It is your smile—I am convinced. Dad gives her shoulder rides at night and she loves it so much. I hate that it isn’t you, but I know you are a part of her, in many different ways. Today, when I got out your gym bag, she pointed to it and said, “Dad!” Last night I had a wedding picture out and she pointed you out immediately. She hasn’t forgotten you. She knows your appearance. But more importantly, she knows the feeling she gets from you. And she carries it with her. She is so happy-go-lucky, just like her dad. You can tell from these cute pictures taken at her birthday party:






















I feel another “I love you” sign from you when I look at the list of goals you had for 2010. You wanted to get debt free, to run a half marathon, to potty train Andi, to reach your sales goals at work, and to make “Cael.” Maybe you couldn’t do every one of those things, but the list just illustrates how I benefited and continue to benefit from your righteous goals. I always benefited from your hard work with your job, and I absolutely have benefited from your inspiration to run, for it has inspired me. I’m even benefiting from your goal to potty train Andi, because now each time she pees on that little potty my joy is exponential in knowing I’m sharing my pride with you.

I thank you for sending all the “I love you signs” that say, “Smile and laugh. Enjoy the good things, for you deserve it.” And so to you I say the same. I want nothing but the best for you and pray that you truly are on higher ground than me and that you are finding peace.

And someday we’ll have Cael…. Just not in 2010.

xoxo