Monday, June 27, 2011
Two years ago today, Pablo lay in our bed, in our arms, hearing our words of love as we soothed him in his final hours and minutes. Since that moment, life for me has been an emotional and psychological wilderness. Most of the time, I am lost amid dense growth, not knowing which direction will lead me to, well, I wouldn't know where I'm supposed to be headed....
People ask me all sorts of questions about how I feel. I never know what to say. I feel small and shrink away as my mouth says words until the questioner in front of me looks satisfied. The fact is, I have no idea where I'd want to go if I did know the direction out of my trees. Going home, being alone—those things are epically raw and gnarly. I am grateful when I'm doing the work of The Pablove Foundation and Dangerbird, and when I'm on my bike. At those moments, I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be.
Sometimes I wonder: What was the first word I said to my son? Does he see me now, every mistake I make, every gain I make, reeling with unending sadness, faking smiles, passing time until it's my time to hear the words of people who love me and who are letting me know it's OK to go? I do believe that I will never know....until I know.
What I know is that I love Pablo. He gave my life purpose. Being his papa brought harmony to my life. All I had to do to find the rhythm that underpinned it all was to follow Pablo through the streets and playgrounds of LA, New Orleans, Milwaukee, Chicago and NYC. It was that simple. I had no idea how to be a father. He always showed me how it was supposed to be.
I miss Pablo. I will carry his spirit for the rest of my life. For as long as my lungs keep breathing. When I am done, I can assure you I will be happy to be with Pablo, in that place beyond here.... Whatever it's called.
at 2:13:00 PM