This Year is Different

Day 1094.

We will gather tomorrow to light candles on the eve of Luke's death.

I have done all the preparations for this annual ceremony.

The food is in.

The buns are ordered.

The wreath upon which we place votives is made.

For the center Adam has created a giant pillar candle which will burn for 24 hours, dusk to dusk, on the night Luke died. He melted the stubs from the candles we lit each night for the past year - (“We leave the light on for Luke”, beside his ashes on Adam’s bedside table.)

The new edition of the lukelove badges is designed, made, and delivered.

We have a formula, and we stick to it, adding or removing the odd detail each year.

It helps.

I manically create, fastidious in detail, seeking Luke’s approval at every turn, as if somehow if I get everything just perfect, it will unlock the event of his death, and he may return to me, to us.

This year does feel different.

I am not angry anymore - well, I am more serene.

It would appear that I have settled into the situation.

It is what it is.

That’s pretty fucked up.

But it is true.

That said... 

In truth, I cope day to day by somehow, pretending it is not true.

I imagine always that he’ll be home any moment, or later, just like he’s at work or away on a trip.

I know no more about the events that fateful night, but I am resigned to the fact that I will never know.

It used to leave me in a state of torture, but no more.

Somehow, he took heroin, and it killed him.

That’s all I know.

I love him with all my heart still.

I loved him always.

I loved him whether he was with me or whether he was at work, or in another room, wherever he was, I loved him.

Wherever he is, or isn’t, I love him now.

I miss chatting to him.

I miss hearing his noise, his chatter, his point of view.

I miss whatever he would bring to any situation.

But I can feel him, I can hear his comments still.

My heart is wide open, full of love, full of lukelove.

“I love that kid.” Every now and again, Luke’s friend and former boss bumps into someone who also knew Luke, and says “I love that kid.”

It makes me smile.

I love you too, Luke.