Craigy

Last week, during our downtime in Stillwater, the family watched old videos of Mom's August homecoming, and Craig's 30th birthday (filmed Nov. 2005).  For Craig's b-day, we orchestrated a trip through memory lane, followed by a mock séance for C to rid himself of all the negative energy that had overcome his 29th year. First, the family instructed him to pop several (real) balloons of negative energy with darts.  The balloons were marked with a paper representation of the specific ailment/life trauma of which he was ridding himself (e.g. Bell's Palsy).   Dad would welcome each burst with an ohm, and then Diane would come in with sage to cleanse C of lingering energy.  His séance ended with a fire walk consisting of red and orange construction paper.  Craig loved it, and laughed through it all.  That's Craig.  He's the guy who takes pictures of everything; saves trinkets from God knows where; laughs randomly; and dedicates enormous energy towards creative things, just to make people smile.

 

That guy is there, but buried deep by his symptoms.  Laughing hurts.  Finding the energy to take a shower, brush his teeth, or put on clothes is difficult.  On occasion, we'll see glimpses of him, but those occasions are rare.  Cancer's self-seeking temper has taken his body and his vibrancy. Like D, I'm finding it difficult to come to terms with his illness.  In short, it breaks my heart.  Unlike Mom, Craig's in pain; he's uncomfortable; he's flattened by fatigue and unable to live life, however short it may be.  This about turn in Craig's health has caused a whiplash that will take time to heal.  Just six months ago, we were running OSU's cross-country trail, and talking about how hard it would be to move on with our lives after losing Mom.  He cried with us; laughed with us; and shared his future dreams. 

 

Mom had a loving family, a career, and lifetime of memories behind her.  Though she still had plenty of life to live, it was easier to draw on those experiences for comfort and healing.  Craig's life is still ahead of him, with plenty of dreams left unfulfilled.  He wants to master the harmonica; research law; travel the world (he's already off to a good start); and share his life as a husband and a father.  Accepting Mom's fate wasn't easy, but I could understand it.  Accepting Craig's, well, I understand it intellectually, but I'm not there yet emotionally.  Like Diane said, I'm still holding out for a second chance, for a sea change that will wash all this away.  Mom was my rock; Craigy's my best friend.  To lose him is just too much to bear.  -- J