Out On a Song

"Know that death in life is here,
with every breaking day..."

Forrest Carter, The Education of Little Tree.

Ian with me on the top of the mountain when he came to visit in 2002.

Some dear friends had to lay the body of their son/stepson/brother to rest today. He changed form two weeks ago when he stepped in front of a fast-moving lorry. To lose a child is impossible to imagine. To even think of it makes my breath stop. My heart aches for all of us left behind, for missing Ian will be never-ending. We'll recall him with joy, of course. We will laugh again and take pleasure in remembering his antics, his great and wicked sense of humor, his very being in our lives. From experience, I know the pain of his absence will ease, will morph into something bearable. But it will never disappear entirely. 

Today, though, the grief is still fresh, raw, hard to bear. Driving home from my daughter's house this morning, I unaccountably burst into tears. Glancing at the clock reminded me - this was the day of Ian's funeral, now, because this morning was this afternoon in England where Ian lived and where services were being held by his family. I had to pull the car over to the side of the road so I could weep. There was a click, a change of cds in the player and suddenly Eric Clapton and JJ Cale were singing, as though on cue, a song of godspeed, of joy and release and the end of having to wait for something longed for.

These are things I wish for Ian. So, here you go my lovely adopted English son. Here's a song to see you on your way. 

Ride The River