Tuesday, August 11, 2009

We Miss Pablo

Pablo at home with one of his flattened pennies on Wednesday June 10, 2009.

We miss Pablo.

Jo Ann and I are aching deeply here in New Hampshire. The last time we were here, it was for Peter and Brie's wedding in 2006. Pablo turned three that week. It was a magical time.

The photos of Pablo at the front of the church at his funeral were all taken here. The coffee shop reminds us of Pablo. The little village handmade toy store reminds us of Pablo. The lake, and our assumption that the next time we came here Pablo would be swimming in it, reminds us of Pablo.

Everything, everywhere shines a light on Pablo and the pain in our bodies and hearts over how much we miss him.

On my ride around the lake today, I talked to Pablo. The whole time. For 100 kilometers. Every big hill I climbed I told Pablo what he always told me: we love climbing up a big hill, because we get to go really fast down the other side. I said out loud everything I would say to Pablo if he were cruising behind me on his connect bike.

I can tell you that I talked to Pablo. I can't tell you that it made me feel any better.

When I returned home, I looked through every single Pablo photo on Jo Ann's iPhone. It's as if Pablo was a dream, or a myth. The precise place where we stand in the process of mourning is a confusing, cruel one. I need to look at photos and videos of my son to remember what he was like. And to be sure his life and his presence with us wasn't all just a dream. After all we've been through raising our son, and shepherding him to his death, my mind plays this terrible trick on me, and makes me look at photos to subtitle my own memories.

If Pablo was a dream, he was a great one. But I know he wasn't just a dream. He was the best thing we could ever imagine coming into our lives. A real person. With real energy and love and curiosity and a smile and a laugh and a whisper that woke up the person he was trying to let sleep in the mornings and a sense of humor wider than the lake that makes us miss him furiously.

We miss you Pablo. We love you Pablo. We told you it was OK to go. We told you we'd be OK. Today, I'm not sure what that meant. But we are here, loving you, still....


Adam Paul said...

If he was a dream, you guys made us all dream him, too. Love.

Anonymous said...

i think of pablo every day.
i think of your family every day.
the prayers will not stop.

pablove and light!!

Catharine Stebbins said...

Ah, Jeff this is so huge, so real and so painful. My heart aches for you guys. Pablo is your heart, your mind, your cells, your everything. That is real. I have a flattened penny with a dolphin on it. I'm putting it in my pocket and rubbing it as a reminder of real love and what a gift that is. Sending my best thoughts to you and yours... Cat

Lisa Hickey said...

He was a real, beautiful little boy who touched many people. He was your beautiful boy!!! I too, think of Pablo every day, as well as your family!!! Always sending you guys love.

Heather said...

Sending you love.Missing Pablo.Was at clinic yesterday.Images of Pablo there,in costume of course,came vividly to me.Sending you peace and strength my friends.

Anonymous said...

This is the hard part -- life after death.

Just never stop believing in Pablo, his purpose, and his presence.

And never stop believing that this pain will slowly, slowly fade and only love will survive.

Our hearts are with you... Stay strong.

Unknown said...

Pablo - a dream made real. Real, true, deep, forever love.
You all are in my heart always

Anonymous said...

You don't know me. Somehow I ended up on your blog in the weeks before Pablo died. He must have been quite an amazing little person. Actually I know it is true. You have convinced me of it through your writing (all three of you). I attribute your gift with words that vividly describe lovable Pablo and the painful grief you are now enduring to the ever-present spirit that is Pablo. Yours is a love so strong that it hurts me, a complete stranger, to see you in the dark times of your grief. I miss Pablo too. Yet, you three are keeping your promises to him with such grace. You are remembering him, feeling the unavoidable feelings, and simply going forward (with him, though in a different way).

He sure is a lucky soul up there!

Though overused, I mean it when I say I will keep you all in my thoughts and prayers.


Nancy said...

You have your wonderful memories of your sweet Pablo. You will always have them but the visual is missing and it is wrenching at times. I am glad you have your photos and pray they bring you some comfort among the pain. Warm thoughts to you all.

Lisa said...

praying for you, to receive continued strength so that you may continue to tackle each day with determination and great memories. I cannot even imagine your pain; I only hope that those vivid memories and pictures you have carry you somehow through those tough days.
Thinking of you often and feeling Pablo's presence always, even here in Canada!
Be well,
Lisa :)

Anonymous said...

i also think of Pablo every day. And though I never met him, I love him and miss him.

Ms. Becky said...

Your words are heartwrenching, and healing. I hold you all in my heart, and know that Pablo gave so much to all of us, even those who never met him. I am one of those people, and he is in my heart forever. Promise. Sending love your way..

shanemotb said...

You have touched me in ways that you cannot imagine. That Pablove is a serious thing! I wish I could shoulder just a bit of your burden to make your heart ease. I never met this precious boy, but my heart breaks every day when I open his webpage to read what you have to say. He was real, and is real, and is changing lives still.

On a side note, my boys LOVE flattened pennies, and we don't ever pass by a machine that we don't get one. We pulled them all out tonight and I told them about Pablo and Pablove... They send hugs....

Shane, mommy of twin boys Alex and Sam

Dawn said...

Dreamnt about Pablo every single night last week. Holding all of you in my heart and prayers right now. Read this yesterday and thought of you:

Walking With Grief

Do not hurry
As you walk with grief
It does not help the journey

Walk slowly
Pausing often
Do not hurry
As you walk with grief

Be gentle with the other
Who walks with grief
If it is you
Be gentle with yourself
Swiftly forgive
Walk slowly
Pausing often

Take time, be gentle
as you walk with grief

--George McDonald

Anonymous said...

Our hearts ache and tears roll down our face as we read your eloquent descriptions capturing the amazing Pablo and we also go through every picture on the blog seeing his sense of humor and beautiful spirit. He was so real.

We never met your very special Pablo, yet we see signs of him and are constantly thinking how would Pablo respond and react in certain situations.

We hold you close to our hearts and pray for your strength daily.