Moving On

You might think from the title of this post that I am ready to move on from the all-consuming grief of loosing my son.  I don't see that will happen, ever.  Instead, what I have decided that my next task is will to be to stop living  in the past.

The origin of the concept for this post was the sale of the land that is the repository for Jason's ashes. If you have read the previous post entitled Ode To A Festival, you will know how important this property is to me. When Jason died, I struggled with what to do with his remains.  Cornerstone Festival grounds seemed to me the perfect place.  My kids and I had a tie with that place, and it was a location that I knew we would be visiting, sometimes together, for many years to come.

And then, several days ago, there was this little post on Facebook from Wilson Abbey - a division of JPUSA, the hosts of Cornerstone Festival - that they had sold the land.  "Praise the Lord," is what they said, I think.  And my world just dissolved again.

I had pictured, in years to come, pilgrimages to Bushnell, Illinois with Craig and the kids.  Staying in a trailer and touring the property.  Spending time reliving memories, reminiscing, crying and laughing together.  I pictured it sort of like visiting a cemetery.

So, I got the idea to make a photo diary of Cornerstone Through The Years.  I even made a folder in my computer for all the pictures.  I searched, I scanned, I looked and looked and I cried a lot.

And it occurred to me that I was exhausted from crying.  Tears of missing Jason.  Tears of missing Andrew and Emily.  Tears for the times we had together that we will never have again.  I was wallowing in memories. 

I think it's an indulgence that is keeping me from living here today.  The past is comforting and rosy.  The pain and worry of that time is lost, and all that's remembered are those moments where smiles and sunshine abounds.  If hard times are recalled, it's with the temperance of having lived through it, and come through the other side.  The uncertainty of daily life is taken out of the picture.  It's not an accurate representation.  But it is a comforting one. 

And it is distracting.  It can't compare, no matter how much I love my present life.

So, I am moving on.  I am going to carry these memories with me, and take them out and look sometimes, but I'm going to work on living today.  Y'all come along with me, be a part of my present.