It's always strange when words fail me, bewildering really.
For almost a week I've been unable to find the words that I so desperately need. I knew they were there somewhere, just out of reach. It was like I could see them in a bit of a fog, but every time I would stretch my fingers out to snag them, they drifted away.
Joe watched me struggle with it, as I would sob saying, "I can't stop seeing their little faces." And it's true. Sterling and Adrianna Sharp's sweet faces keep popping up in my brain. Most especially when I think of milestone moments: the upcoming dance recital for one.
I think of James getting his driver's license, graduating, going to college...all moments that Sterling should have but won't.
I cannot impress upon you enough how the weight of those milestone moments sit on my chest. Possibly the sadness is due to the fact that I know my son, and his friends, will all think of Sterling during these times as well.
Several years ago, in a small town in Illinois, another young man lost his life in a tragic accident. Over the years, I watched his classmates remember him. Not solely upon the day of his death, but when they had milestone moments. They were very good to always mention their friend's name, as if he too deserved a chance to be a part of it. Though they don't know it, whenever they would achieve a milestone and then mention his name, they each became nearer and dearer to me.
Watching them gives me hope. I don't know if they will ever recover from their loss, or be okay with it. The same applies to me.
But then again, maybe seeing their little faces isn't so bad.
I see them in happy moments. I see Adrianna jumping and spinning on stage for Drama camp, twisting Joseph Larson around her little finger. I see her begging her mom Amy to let Violet spend the night after a basketball game. I see James and Sterling planning sleep overs, and talking quietly together as they dreamt up something silly to do.
James always felt so thankful to be included by Sterling because James isn't an athlete, and a lot of boys don't hang out with him because he would rather do things that don't involve sports. And Sterling, the sportiest of them all (James said) was still his friend.
One of my favorite memories of these two was one of Sterling's birthday parties. Sterling wanted to go to Sky Zone and then Twin Peaks, but when it came time to go eat....James wouldn't go inside. Amy had to call me and say, "Your son won't go in" I said, "What?"
James got on the phone and said, "I can't mom, it disrespects women."
I felt proud, laughed, and then said, "James, your friend wants to eat there on his birthday what should you do?" and he said, "I'm going to go in."
There are moments that we all hang onto forever, and others that we don't remember: either because we can't or simply because we are human and forget. Then someone reminds you, and your brain goes "Oh!"
I don't know if anyone will ever forget the Sharps, not only because of who they were and how they were connected to people, but because so many things are reminders of them: Iowa black and gold, stock cars, floral hair bows, SWCC basketball, laughter, seeing families together.
While writing this this morning, an older student of mine walked by - a two time cancer survivor. She popped her head in and smiled and said, "Good Morning, Kelly!"
She was so vibrant and happy, immediately the tone of my writing started to change. I wanted to write funny things, silly memories, happy thoughts. She has overcome so much, experienced great loss, but smiled so bright and kept moving.
And that's when I realized that Amy would sigh, chuckle, wave her hands and tell me to stop crying about it go on, get over it. Sterling would smile his goofy smile at James, the one he would do when James was sad. Adrianna would bounce, spin, smile, and hug me. All those things they would do if they saw me this way.
So, as I finish writing through my grief, I will try to end with some words that don't belong to me, not because words have again failed me but because they give me comfort quite often:
"What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives." Rupi Kaur
As every day is met with a sunrise, the constant heart keeps beating and drives us forward. Just as Amy would tell me to do. Though I may one day fail to see their little faces, I will never forget that they were here. That they mattered. That heir hearts continue to beat in those of others.
For almost a week I've been unable to find the words that I so desperately need. I knew they were there somewhere, just out of reach. It was like I could see them in a bit of a fog, but every time I would stretch my fingers out to snag them, they drifted away.
Joe watched me struggle with it, as I would sob saying, "I can't stop seeing their little faces." And it's true. Sterling and Adrianna Sharp's sweet faces keep popping up in my brain. Most especially when I think of milestone moments: the upcoming dance recital for one.
I think of James getting his driver's license, graduating, going to college...all moments that Sterling should have but won't.
I cannot impress upon you enough how the weight of those milestone moments sit on my chest. Possibly the sadness is due to the fact that I know my son, and his friends, will all think of Sterling during these times as well.
Several years ago, in a small town in Illinois, another young man lost his life in a tragic accident. Over the years, I watched his classmates remember him. Not solely upon the day of his death, but when they had milestone moments. They were very good to always mention their friend's name, as if he too deserved a chance to be a part of it. Though they don't know it, whenever they would achieve a milestone and then mention his name, they each became nearer and dearer to me.
Watching them gives me hope. I don't know if they will ever recover from their loss, or be okay with it. The same applies to me.
But then again, maybe seeing their little faces isn't so bad.
I see them in happy moments. I see Adrianna jumping and spinning on stage for Drama camp, twisting Joseph Larson around her little finger. I see her begging her mom Amy to let Violet spend the night after a basketball game. I see James and Sterling planning sleep overs, and talking quietly together as they dreamt up something silly to do.
James always felt so thankful to be included by Sterling because James isn't an athlete, and a lot of boys don't hang out with him because he would rather do things that don't involve sports. And Sterling, the sportiest of them all (James said) was still his friend.
One of my favorite memories of these two was one of Sterling's birthday parties. Sterling wanted to go to Sky Zone and then Twin Peaks, but when it came time to go eat....James wouldn't go inside. Amy had to call me and say, "Your son won't go in" I said, "What?"
James got on the phone and said, "I can't mom, it disrespects women."
I felt proud, laughed, and then said, "James, your friend wants to eat there on his birthday what should you do?" and he said, "I'm going to go in."
There are moments that we all hang onto forever, and others that we don't remember: either because we can't or simply because we are human and forget. Then someone reminds you, and your brain goes "Oh!"
I don't know if anyone will ever forget the Sharps, not only because of who they were and how they were connected to people, but because so many things are reminders of them: Iowa black and gold, stock cars, floral hair bows, SWCC basketball, laughter, seeing families together.
While writing this this morning, an older student of mine walked by - a two time cancer survivor. She popped her head in and smiled and said, "Good Morning, Kelly!"
She was so vibrant and happy, immediately the tone of my writing started to change. I wanted to write funny things, silly memories, happy thoughts. She has overcome so much, experienced great loss, but smiled so bright and kept moving.
And that's when I realized that Amy would sigh, chuckle, wave her hands and tell me to stop crying about it go on, get over it. Sterling would smile his goofy smile at James, the one he would do when James was sad. Adrianna would bounce, spin, smile, and hug me. All those things they would do if they saw me this way.
So, as I finish writing through my grief, I will try to end with some words that don't belong to me, not because words have again failed me but because they give me comfort quite often:
"What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives." Rupi Kaur
As every day is met with a sunrise, the constant heart keeps beating and drives us forward. Just as Amy would tell me to do. Though I may one day fail to see their little faces, I will never forget that they were here. That they mattered. That heir hearts continue to beat in those of others.
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