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Last Sunday while running the front of house audio for the second service, I looked at my arm as in the picture on this post. I saw my tattooed arm that has his face and representations of his life, his bracelet, and a family ring with his name inscribed. At that moment, it hit me just how much I try to keep him here with me. Maybe because I could not keep him here alive.

In the past few years, I have not thought about how much I try to keep Caleb close to me. I get up, brush my teeth, get dressed, and stay fairly slammed with work until evening. Pretty normal stuff, except a lot of not so normal things happen here.

When I get up, my alarm is playing from my Spotify playlist that starts with the song Wish You Were Here. I brush my teeth and his face tattooed on my arm is in the mirror. This often shocks me. You’d think after all this time I would be used to having tattoos. No, I still expect to see my white skin and definitely not his face. When I get dressed, I may put on one of the many t-shirts I love, many that remind me of him. Then I might put on his class ring or the family ring with all my kids’ names engraved. I often put on his bracelet or the one Donna gave me also engraved with the kids’ names. As I walk out the door, I pick up my car keys that have his key fob.

Even if I have none of those things with me, he in near. As I see places he and I have visited together, or when I see someone in their mid-20s, or visit a friend who has a child his age or now has a grandchild, I think of Caleb. His shadows stretch into nearly every moment of my life, and everything he touched echoes in the chasm he left in my heart.

Tattoo Bracelet Rings Keyfob Necklace

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Published inGrief

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