The Helpers

I am not feeling particularly strong.  People keep saying "You are so strong."  Not really.  Every day is hard.  Some are harder than others, and some days are simply next to impossible.  Just about every day, we get a piece of college mail addressed to Mitchell, or I get an email about ACT deadlines, or a tweet from his high school, or one of his friends celebrates a birthday or a hockey goal.  Everything, every one of these things, is just another reminder of something Mitchell doesn't get to do, of something we don't get to celebrate with him.

People say "I don't know how you do it."  No, you don't.  Most of the time, neither do we.

But yet, we try.  Right now, mainly we try for Carson.  It does not honor Mitchell, and it does not help any of us, to just sit around.  So we will honor Mitchell by LIVING.  We will go to hockey games, to football games, on trips.  Carson will still play -- #playformitch, right?  We will try to be #18foreverstrong, and to keep #18's memory forever strong.

A meme circulates every year around September 11, with Fred Rogers from "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" talking about "the helpers".  I too am comforted by realizing that there are so many helpers -- so many caring people.  Angels don't always have halos, and heroes don't always wear uniforms.  You all are my helper-heroes, for every kind word, every action, no matter how big or small, every meal you've brought or bought, every time Carson is invited on an outing, every text and message.