Stories

I sometimes think of my life before Bunky died and it seems like an eternity ago. Other times it feels so recent. So much so that I'm not even sure I really believe it has happened. People are so well-intentioned, and I was one of those people at various points in my life. Now that I am on a different side  of things, I wish I could take back things I said that I thought were the "right" thing. More importantly, I wish I would have not said anything at all sometimes…because sometimes, that really is the best thing in the moment.

I think one of the things I absolutely love the most, is when someone shares a story with me or the boys about something Bunky said or did. Funny. Sweet. Stupid. It doesn't matter. I just like hearing his name in a conversation and listening to others share their memories.

It seems a lot of people are afraid to do this…I would have been before. People are afraid they will upset me and then God forbid, I might get emotional and they don't know how to handle that. So, they just don't bring him up. For me...my daily life...from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep (and even after I go to sleep), is a constant reality of the void that is now my world. I miss him. He was here one minute and gone the next. To hear about him from others, who have specific memories that I might not even know about, brings a little piece of him back to me for that moment. Might I get emotional? Possibly, but I have no expectations for anyone to do anything with that. I'm just grateful for a small moment to remember. It's like a salve that takes the sting out of an open wound…even if just for a moment. The pain is still there and I have no idea if or when that will ever really go away. All I know is that a little of the sting stopped for just a minute, as I found joy in remembering the man he was. So, please don't be afraid to tell me or the boys your stories. To remember is to honor.

An example of one of the stories that has just been a great reminder of how much fun Bunky was, is the story of "Netter" from Camp John Marc. He was a part of the first summer staff and told me about his time there on our very first date. I knew immediately how special this place was to him. He would tell the campers about an imaginary fish he named "Netter," which could not be caught and even broke the net. Chronically ill campers still enjoy trying to catch the big imaginary catfish. In fact, Camp Director, Vance Gilmore, sent the boys shirts he had made with Camp John Marc and Netter on them. The boys love hearing these stories and so do I. Please don't stop sharing them with us.