Three Years

 

How has it been three years already?  Shadow’s death is still so very raw for all of us.  We are in California now and being in his mother’s house with all his things makes it even more bewildering.  We still expect him to come home, walk through the door with a bag of burritos, six pack and an ounce of weed.

It has gotten better, missing him, but it still fucking hurts.  I don’t think that ever goes away.

In the photo above are just some of his many crystals that his mom keeps around the house.  His spirit permeates every room.  It’s good vibes only, that’s for sure.  His ashes are kept in an antique writing desk, his favorite hat on top of the box.  Three years and there still is no urn, but that’s totally Shadow as well.  If he had had his way, he would have been rolled up and smoked.  He wanted to be a diamond at one point too.  Of course no one knows their death is so close when they discuss such frivolous things.

Out here at his mom’s house we drive his Kia around because it gets the best gas mileage.  We joke and say that it will probably be Ana’s first car.  Shadow wouldn’t have had it any other way.  Stacy baby gets whatever she wants!

I want to say that I am at peace with his death, but I think that’s only partially true.  I’m angry that he didn’t take better care of himself, guilty that I didn’t drag his ass to the doctor when I should have.  I’m happy that he made me so happy and gave me my daughter.  It’s a fucking roller coaster of emotions which is very much in tune with the seven years we had together.  It would have been ten this month, that realization hurts too.

So, I get to keep chugging on.  Eating organic cucumbers and going to far too many doctors so that I can stay as healthy as possible (relatively speaking) for my children and myself.

If you feel inclined, please roll up a giant fatty in Shadow’s name, and smoke the shit outta it.  It’s all he would have wanted.

Blessed Be!

💜