Mind's Eye

The death certificates arrived on Saturday. Another standard form to neatly and orderly sum up the most tragic event in my life to date. Every time I closed my eyes or just thought about Tom, all I could see in my mind's eye was him trapped under a pick-up. My visual subconscious had constructed an elaborate scene with a multitude of details and each actual factual detail I learned altered the image slightly more toward the truth. Frequently, the image I see is focused on his helmeted head and eyes with a bit of a truck tire in the scene. He is perfectly still. Already gone. In a decidedly morbid way, I want to see the accident scene photos. Some were taken by Highway Patrol. I want to see what David saw. I want to see the reality rather than made up images in my mind. I wonder if the truth will set me free.

I awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. I had dreamed of Tom and it was rapidly fading. All I could remember is showing him the photos I had found to use for his service and I had to hurry. I was going through them rapidly. There wasn't enough time. I don't know why, but I couldn't stay. Time was short.

The sadness seems to be hitting randomly now. Before, it was some specific thought or external trigger. Now I'll be thinking of nothing and will suddenly be overcome with sadness. I miss him. I miss his voice. I miss his scent. I miss his touch. There are so many furry feet here and yet the house is empty.

I noticed something else different today, though. A few minutes ago and what prompted me to write tonight, was that I saw him in my mind again, but he wasn't in the accident scene. He was standing in front of me wearing a stained sage colored T-shirt and jeans. Barefoot and smiling. This is my Tom. I realized that I had seen him that way all day. I was so happy. I feared that I would never get the accident scene out of my head. This Tom is the reality. The truth. It is remembering him like this that will eventually set me free.

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This is the first painting I have done since the death. It's a step into the future for me. Living in the past is not what he wants for me.