The Toothpick

This past Saturday was my first personal therapy session. I think it went really well and so far I like the guy and his point of view on things, so for now he's a keeper. The first session we talked more about where I am and where I want to be in my grief. He was wary of some things in my life and even went as far to call them "toxic" and asked that I try and to put those things on the back burner for now - to be dealt with at a later date and time.

But the real thing that I want to share with those of you out there is what happened before I left for my session. Let me set the scene.

A cold front came through Friday night and left Saturday in the high 50's. So after getting Ethan's stuff ready for my Aunt and cousin who watch him for me while I went to my session (thank you guys!) I went in to the closet to get dressed. The first sweater I pulled out was too thin for the 50 degree weather and I quickly knew I needed something heavier. I grabbed a thick green sweater and threw it on, but for some reason the arms were really tight (which I still haven't figured that one out, because I have lost some weight and found it old that a sweater I wore last season didn't fit) - so that one was dismissed. I then saw the yellow sweater that Christopher had bought for me one winter. His comment when he brought it home was, "You wear too many dark colors; your an artist brighten up your pallet."

So I threw on this yellow sweater. As I was leaving the bathroom I noticed in the mirror out of the corner of my eye that there was something sticking in the sweater. As I reach around to see what it is, I knew it instantly when I touched it. It was one of Christopher's tooth picks. He was notorious for leaving them in his pants pockets and them going through the wash. So here in the center of my lower back was his tooth pick. It was like he was there to tell me that he was there for me; to help me through this.

Speed up to after the session...

After I was done I got in the car and sat there for a moment; I wished I didn't have to go through this. I thought, why us, why Ethan, why Christopher. Then I started the car. The song that Christopher used to listen to when he was on chemo started playing. (Thee Door Down, "It's Not My Time") I broke down in tears. It was Christopher telling me he was there. He's here to help me through this even though he can't be here physically to hug me, to tell me he's ok and that he loves me.

This was an emotional Saturday, but it was good to share with someone Christopher's journey through cancer. How strong he was for Ethan and I and how much I love him for being the man he was and always dreamed of being. I miss him.