It's been four weeks today since we received the early morning phone call that told us that my son Dylan had passed away. I remember every moment of that awful morning, the nausea, the explosion of pain in my head and stomach, the disbelief, the tears that couldn't stop.
I had just spoken with Dylan two days earlier where he told me about his intense workouts and plans to ask a girl out. He had just turned 22 and all that life has to offer him was waiting for him to reach out and take. My world changed forever in that moment. People have asked how I'm doing and the best analogy I can give is that it's like losing an arm - you will have phantom pains, you will remember the days when you were whole, you will question why? but the reality is that you must learn to now live each day with only one arm.
I'm so grateful for Jim - for his constant and unending love and support during this impossible and surreal time. I'm grateful for my children Justin and Eden; for their strength and grace in how they are handling this new reality we have been thrust into. I'm grateful to my mom for taking on the terrible task of closing out Dylan's accounts in Ontario. I'm grateful for both mine and Bob's family and the wonderful way they rallied around us. I'm grateful for the wide circle of beautiful friends we have across all continents and time zones - your messages, phone calls and cards have all helped us not to feel so alone in this terrible journey.
I still cry many times a day as I remember moments with Dylan and mourn his absence from my life. I dreamed last night that a friend had a recording of him singing a song on their phone and played it for me, I cried in my dream hearing his voice again. I'm not sure when the daily tears will stop but I'm trying to not quell or judge them and just allow the surges to happen, to wash over me and to subside.
For those of you who ask "what can I do?". I ask that you please donate to the bursary fund as this is the only positive thing I could think to do to create something tangible we can build in Dylan's name. I don't ever expect that this pain will go away but helping an aspiring musician every year in Dylan's name is something that we as a family can look forward to - it will give us hope and help us want to go on.
I hope and pray that none of you ever live through this pain. Hug your loved ones today. Call them and tell them how important they are to you. Mend broken friendships. This journey is so brief and so precious.