8 weeks today.
I had to run to the store to buy batteries for my fireplace remote. And the song Rocketman started playing over the PA system.
Sam used to play the guitar sometimes when we would talk on the phone. He played that song often and we would sing together.
The song really meant something to him. He had a rocketship tattoo on his arm. I have his rocketship tattoo on my arm now. We had the same rocket ship etched into his granite urn.
Rocketman was the last song played at his service. The pallbearers carried his urn to the waiting Hearst in slow March to that song. All the guests followed. I can still hear the music, fading slowly as we left the building.
Of course I started to cry in the mall….yet I couldn’t leave the building while his song was playing.
Today, the officer in charge of his Board of Inquiry briefed me on what to expect over these next five months ( that is how long a military board of inquiry sits when a military member dies while serving ). He chose to fly almost 5000 kms to brief me in person rather than over a phone. That’s two days of long flights just to talk to me for 2 hours.
This has been a hard day. I am sitting here in my car, crying. I don’t want to go home. I just want to disappear from this world. I wish I could be with my son so badly. But know that my 3 other children are already struggling in the aftermath of losing their brother. I hate my life right now. Is that so wrong.