Driving and Spencerport

As I was driving home Friday from work, I stopped at a stop light. It was about 5:00 p.m. and as I waited for the light to change I thought of two things. First, I thought "I wonder what Doug is doing right now?" Secondly I thought "I wonder what Jeff is doing now?" It has been 15 months since Jeff died. It still shocks me when I write those two words together "Jeff died".

I finished writing acknowledgements for the donations that came in over the Spring and from the tournament we held in Jeff's memory. The follow up I needed to attend to after the tournament -- raffle, tee shirts, organizing files for next year, and acknowledgements - have been hanging over my head and bugging me for quite some time. I am near the end of doing all of this -- and I now realize that the tournament, the fundraising, all of it keeps Jeff alive for me. So I will always be doing something related to Jeff whether the fund, the tournament, the celebration of Jeff's life in December, building a new website or something else.

On Sunday, John and I delivered tee-shirts to two people in Spencerport -- and I/we finally went to the field where Jeff died. I got directions to the field from James and Mike T. We got there and I just stood. And stood some more. I could see the boys getting off of the bus and fooling around with each other. I could see them walking up to the field and I could see them all tossing the balls at one another. I feel angry at myself for not being their earlier that day. Maybe it would have made a difference. At least I would have been able to share in Jeff's life right up until the end.

The end. I refuse to let Jeff's life end. And I refuse to talk about going to the cemetery to "visit Jeff". Jeff isn't at the cemetery -- the cemetery is beautiful these days -- flowers that 'Laine and I planted, flowers that Mary Ellen planted, and a flower that Lauren planted are all budding and it looks beautiful and I am so very proud of it because it looks as bright and uplifting as Jeff would want it to be.

When I go to the cemetery even...John and I ... we often walk there. And we will tend the plants...and tonite we talked about head stones and which ones would be good for Jeff's plot. And we talked about whether or not it matters which direction it is in terms of withstanding the weather/elements. And I talked about the fact that I bought a plot for me right beside Jeff and I wonder how big both of our plots are and where exactly the headstones go. We decide that I need to call the owner to get answers to my questions. And as we leave the cemetery, I look at John and say, "What are we doing here? Why are we talking about this? Damn the cemetery and the flowers and the watering and the sun. This can't be part of a conversation of ours." But it is. And it still surprises me so and seems so very unreal. It is someone else who is having these conversations..not me. I am going to wake up and Jeff is going to be here and I will hear his voice again. And it will be ok.