Month: December 2018

Thanks for the Glasses

Tracy Bradshaw

Thank you, Sawyer, for being in my dream this morning. I would like to share with you all that I can remember and my interpretation too…

You and I were going on a cruise. I had checked myself in and stepped ahead to turn and get a picture of you checking yourself in by sliding a card much like a self-checkout at Kroger. I hit the button to turn on my phone and tapped the camera app wanting to snap your photo. I was quite puzzled when a picture of Your Uncle Todd popped up on the screen in camera mode. It was his picture caught in midair as if he was in the middle of a big jump. I chuckled at the photo and tapped to return to camera mode as you swiped your card to board the cruise ship. You placed a pair of black framed glasses on the white swim platform and said that you needed to get some things from your room. When you left, I noticed water lapping up on the platform. I worried that your glasses would be washed away. Just as I was thinking that very thought a wave came up and slid across the platform taking your glasses with it. I watched as they began to very slowly sink into the water. I reached for them and they seemed to travel in slow motion remaining just beyond my fingertips. When my arm was completely submerged in the water, I still hadn’t reached the glasses. I thought that you might not be able to see without them and decided that I’d dive in for them. I retrieved the glasses from the ocean water and returned soaking wet and hair dripping. I opened the ear pieces. They were stretched out too far. I recognized them as an old pair of my own reading glasses that I didn’t want anymore and realized that they weren’t yours at all. When you returned you were younger and smaller. You stretched out on your stomach on the swim platform in a tight outfit which may have been a tightly wrapped towel, but it looked much like a strapless dress. I slid my hand under the fabric between your shoulders and felt the soft skin on your upper back. I raised the material and found it loose though visually it appeared to be so snug.

My limited interpretation – Since the day you passed away, I’ve been trying to save you somehow. Your love, your memory, your personality, your presence; I cannot allow these things to pass away too. I thought by sharing you via Sawbear I was saving you, but in reality, I was saving myself. Sawbear keeps me going because sharing you through his eyes, heart, and adventures gives me purpose. You left the glasses for me, so I can see what is closest to me. That understanding has been just out of my reach for several years. I had to submerge myself in Sawbear before I could see what saved me. Thanks for the glasses.

I love you, Sawyer. I miss your physical presence so very much.

Love, Mom
11-17-18

Christmas Letter to Sawyer

Tracy Bradshaw

Dear Sawyer,
I probably write this every year now, but Christmas is so different without you and a list for “Mommy.” This is the seventh Christmas and the first time I have looked at your collection of ornaments since we decorated in 2010. I decided to let Sawbear have his very own tree and thought it appropriate to let him use your full box of Christmas decorations, ornaments, and even your stocking. I thought it was a great idea, but I was not prepared for the emotion. I’m not sure why I didn’t anticipate the struggle and talk myself out of it, but there I sat crying and pulling 18 years of Christmas memories out of a box labeled “Sawyer’s Christmas”. I stopped every few minutes and positioned Sawbear for a picture. It seems that his favorites were your favorites too. He even found the pickle and got to get the pickle present. It was the same decoration you got with two penguins and a big snowball. It was so very difficult, Sawyer, but I couldn’t stop until I had unloaded the box. The branches of the little tree dipped down with the weight of the ornaments much like the corners of my mouth dipped with the weight of grief.

I rummaged through your toybox and gathered a stocking full of cars, monkeys, a Taco Bell kid meal toy, spinning tops, and a mini Mr. Potatohead. I found the clock floor puzzle that you loved, your tub of Legos, your purple and black pajamas, and many more things to place under the tree for Christmas morning. Sawbear had a big Christmas, and I cried as I missed you and all the past Christmases we shared. While I am very grateful for the eighteen years that we got to celebrate Christmas together, it is just about impossible to focus on being grateful when I still feel robbed. I busied myself organizing the ornaments and taking pictures all the while remembering you with these small treasures in your hands. With each careful hanging there was a memory, and I let myself go there. I basked in the flood of memories, smiling and crying at the same time. Thankful and robbed, appreciative and angry, happy and sad, the feelings were extreme and hit simultaneously. Having your collection out made me miss you more and grief was heightened. Maybe I needed that this year, I don’t know.

I love you, Sawyer. I miss you, and I miss you decorating the tree with me, getting so excited over finding the pickle, hiding your beaded candle ornament you made at preschool, getting cookies ready for Santa, opening too many presents, playing with new toys, building with blocks or Legos, putting together puzzles, spending more time together, and living our traditions.

Love, Mom
December 25, 2017