The smell of Fall

Here we are.  Two weeks away from September.  I can already smell Fall in the air while I was in Caledonia visiting Zachery yesterday.  Fall is like a pre-quil to the emotional roller coaster ride I go through from December to February.  In the Fall of 2006, it was when reality hit me like a transport truck, that Zachery was really gone. If you have never lost a child, you won't "get it". It was the changing of the seasons that made me realize he was never coming home.  Here I sit 5.5 years later.  I think it is the smell of Fall that sets me off.  Or maybe it was yesterday.  Brandon and I made the long treck to Caledonia to visit Zachery.  It isn't really that long of a treck.  It's just all the traffic we have to deal with to get there.

We made the treck as we did in the Spring to clean up Zachery's grave, to plant some flowers and to say Hello. I had been fine all day.  Even on the drive in through Hamilton.  Then as we came over the tracks into Caledonia, the flood gates opened.  I don't know why this visit was so hard.  Visiting him this time was a lot harder than when I moved out in January.  It doesn't take a lot to set me off.  As we drove through Caledonia. I looked out the window at all the stores and places we used to go.  Zachery and myself on our own for a walk.  Or as a family with Brandon and Zachery's father Craig.  Every store had a memory.  I was crying and we hadn't even hit the cemetery yet.  Maybe going back to Caledonia is a reminder of my loss (es).  I had 2.  Zachery being one.  My marriage being second.  I had it all.  I had never been so happy in those few years. We had our ups and downs, and it was never easy taking care of a special needs baby.  But I did it.  Looking forward to every morning I would walk in Zachery's room and see his beaming smile looking up at me.  I would pick him up and take him down stairs.  Changing him and taking in every bit of him.  He took my breath away.  I grieve for the life I had.  Still. And probably always will.

I had to stop at the old house too yesterday to drop off the canopy we had left to the new owners.  I got there and noticed they had torn out a lot of the flowers and shrubs I planted.  I was angry.  I knocked on the door and got no answer.  I went around to the back to see if they were there and nothing.  I peered through the fence and saw what used to be mine.  Ours.  The pool was open.  They had a different gazebo up and had taken the wood deck apart down by the pond.  My blood started to boil.  I don't know why.  Maybe I shouldn't have just stopped by.  But I did.  I came around to the front and got in the car.  I told Brandon the changes they made in the back.  I was upset.  Call me crazy.  I shouldn't be upset.  I sold the house, moved out and have started to move forward..  Maybe it is what I wanted to see.  See everything the way it was, the way we made it.  As we left, this song came on the radio.  By Nickelback, called Photograph.  That song fits how I feel sometimes.  "Looking out the back door etc, looking out the front door etc".  That was me after I lost Zachery.  That was me yesterday as I peered through the fence and opening the door to knock on the inside door.  The sound of the door creaking.  It hit me.  That familiar creak of what used to be mine. 

As it is sad to go back there, I felt close to Zachery.  As I have said in previous posts, I don't feel him here on the base.  I wish I did.  Oh God I wish I did.  It is hard to let go.  Let go of what I had.  Am I crazy to feel happy sad going back to the house?  Anyways, we left and went to the cemetery.  There were weeds growing and a pink lilly in bloom.  Just once.  Just once would I like to go to the cemetery and find it cleaned up and flowers planted by someone else.  His father?  His grandparents? Ok.  Maybe I shouldn't be so harsh about his grandparents, as they always take a wreath at Christmas time.  They all know I got posted up here. I have asked them to keep an eye on it and have even suggested in the past to plant flowers if you want.  I would like that. But no.  Nothing.  As hard as it is to go visit Zachery, I know I must.  Who else is going to take care of his grave?  It makes me sad that no one else especially his father goes and cleans it up.  Maybe he does go and just can't bare to clean it up and plant stuff.  I know it was hard for him to go when he passed.  But wasn't it for me?  I went nearly everyday. Late at night, sprawled on the grass bawling my eyes out at 11 oclock at night, wanting to hold him.  Not caring what the neighbours right across the street from the cemetery thought.  Maybe after 5.5 years this is something that I have to learn to accept.

After we planted some flowers and watered them and spoke to Zachery for a bit, we left.  As we drove out of Caledonia, it was a relief to leave.  Don't get me wrong.  It felt good to plant flowers and say hello, but it felt awful at the same time. Sometimes I think it is easier to just not go.  But I can't.  As painful as it is, I want Zachery to look down and see how much he was loved and still is.