Just Seeing His Name Gets Me

Last weekend, Connor’s fraternity brothers came together to honor him with a 3 v 3 boys’ basketball and girls’ pickleball fundraising tournament.  I continue to be blown away by their generosity, kindness and support this past year. 

I generally did good enjoying the games and watching the competition.  It wasn’t until I saw the plaque they had made that is forever adhered to their outdoor wall near the basketball court that I started to cry. There's just something about seeing his name (especially his full name) that causes me to completely well up with tears every single time. I felt many watching me so I tried to quickly quell it so not to make others uncomfortable. As I write that, I get angry at myself. It's my grief. I shouldn't care if it makes others uncomfortable, but here we are.  

So many of the brothers came over and sat next to my younger son talking to him about his life like football, school, etc…  It warmed my heart that they had the fortitude and awareness to try and involve him and make him feel comfortable.  It was funny to see how much more engaged my younger son was watching girls’ pickleball than he was boys’ basketball.  He even strategically took a selfie with me to capture a pretty girl in the background.  Here I thought he wanted a picture with me.  Ha!! Connor would’ve been proud of him!

I am coming up on the beginning of all the seconds.  Next Sunday will be my second Easter without Connor.  Unlike last year where we had a golden egg hunt in his memory, we are going to our North Carolina home instead.   That place has become my peace.  We bought it after Connor passed away so the walls don’t reverberate memories to me, which brings me some sense of peace.  It allows me to remember him in other ways and, of course, it makes me wish he was there. ∞