Notes
Days after my son’s passing in September 2017, I started spending considerable time in his bedroom that he occupied until he moved out in December 2015. In fact, I slept in his bed for many weeks after his death. My wife Rose Mary couldn’t understand how I was able to do this, but it gave me a sense of closeness to my son. Maybe this peaceful feeling I felt was related to the many hours I spent reading, and falling asleep to, Hardy Boys and other books with Chris?
One evening I was rummaging through the drawers of his night stand and I found many keepsakes of his, including cards, photos and love letters from Marie, ticket stubs to memorable music and sporting events he’d attended. Included amongst them was a note written by me in May 2009, when Chris was almost 17 and finishing his grade 11 year.
I had forgotten that I wrote this to Chris, but I remember the reason why I wrote it because of the date. I remember how upset Chris was with me and after some heated discussions, I realized I was exasperating my son. I know my younger son Nick can attest to how frustrating my intensity can sometimes be!
Why did Chris keep this note? Did he simply put it in his drawer and forget about it? Did it have some impact on him? Whatever the reason, I was happy that I found it and somewhat proud of the fact that I was able to admit my fault to my son. I had learned the power of written words from cards I received from my mom and grandmother that encouraged me as a young boy. I also learned from my wife Rose Mary as she often put heartfelt notes in our boys’ lunches and other locations around our home.
In October 2018, I received the following text message from Chris’ widow (this word still sounds so strange) Marie:
I don’t remember writing this note, but I must have done so when Chris was still living at home. Maybe I put the note on one of his vitamin bottles? The cool thing is my son kept my note! I cried when I read the words in my note. Tears of joy over the many hours of enjoyment I had with my son and tears of sorrow that I won’t enjoy any more hours, on earth, with him.
Notes…maybe our written words to people have a greater influence on them, and us, than we realize?
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Notes
Days after my son’s passing in September 2017, I started spending considerable time in his bedroom that he occupied until he moved out in December 2015. In fact, I slept in his bed for many weeks after his death. My wife Rose Mary couldn’t understand how I was able to do this, but it gave me a sense of closeness to my son. Maybe this peaceful feeling I felt was related to the many hours I spent reading, and falling asleep to, Hardy Boys and other books with Chris?
One evening I was rummaging through the drawers of his night stand and I found many keepsakes of his, including cards, photos and love letters from Marie, ticket stubs to memorable music and sporting events he’d attended. Included amongst them was a note written by me in May 2009, when Chris was almost 17 and finishing his grade 11 year.
I had forgotten that I wrote this to Chris, but I remember the reason why I wrote it because of the date. I remember how upset Chris was with me and after some heated discussions, I realized I was exasperating my son. I know my younger son Nick can attest to how frustrating my intensity can sometimes be!
Why did Chris keep this note? Did he simply put it in his drawer and forget about it? Did it have some impact on him? Whatever the reason, I was happy that I found it and somewhat proud of the fact that I was able to admit my fault to my son. I had learned the power of written words from cards I received from my mom and grandmother that encouraged me as a young boy. I also learned from my wife Rose Mary as she often put heartfelt notes in our boys’ lunches and other locations around our home.
In October 2018, I received the following text message from Chris’ widow (this word still sounds so strange) Marie:
I don’t remember writing this note, but I must have done so when Chris was still living at home. Maybe I put the note on one of his vitamin bottles? The cool thing is my son kept my note! I cried when I read the words in my note. Tears of joy over the many hours of enjoyment I had with my son and tears of sorrow that I won’t enjoy any more hours, on earth, with him.
Notes…maybe our written words to people have a greater influence on them, and us, than we realize?