Two Years

Sunday morning.  It used to be my favorite day of the week.  I'm sitting at my kitchen table with a cup of coffee in Austin's favorite mug, the boys are still asleep and I'm remembering.  There's nothing like a quiet house and the smell of one of Austin's favorite beverages (scotch was the other favorite, but he didn't drink that in the mornings :), to surround me in sweet and painful memories.  Today, at 11:45 am central time, it will be two years since Austin died.  Two years, 730 days, 730 nights, 17 523 hours (including the extra 3 hours that he was still alive but unconscious) since I last looked in his eyes, heard his voice, felt his touch.  I know that all of you who are living this know how time plays tricks on us; it feels like it's been an eternity since he was here and at the same time feels like he's only been gone for a few minutes.  Memory and love keep him close.  But time moves him further away.

So we enter year 3.  Un - fricking - believable.  Truly. 

I've come to really appreciate the poem below.  I imagine that if Austin could talk to me now, this would be something along the lines of what he'd say.  As I read it, I hear his voice and it helps me to keep moving forward. 

All is Well

I have only slipped away into the next room.

I am I, and you are you.

Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.


Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.


Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort,
Without the ghost of a shadow upon it.


Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and
unbroken continuity.


What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?


I am but waiting for you,
for an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.


 All is well.


 By Henry Scott Holland.

In loving memory of Austin James Thomas. He loved his family and friends, sailboats, art, scotch, music, building things, road trips, teaching, and adventure. He was a true Renaissance man. We love him and miss him more than words can describe.




"The song is ended, but the melody lingers on..."

Irving Berlin