Wobble

29 June 2019

Anam Thubten says a lack of acceptance creates conflict. That conflict creates psychological pain.

He’s talking about an acceptance of what is: the tiny things and the big things.

Do I accept that Vaughn has died from this life? More so than I used to, I guess. I don’t wake up with that shocked feeling as often.

But I haven’t completely shaken the feeling that there was some kind of mistake. Intellectually I know that my son died. I know sons die sometimes. I know other parents who have lost their sons.

But Vaughn?? That collection of unique traits and gentleness and insight? That crafty smile and devilish sense of humor? That sweet sweet soul who had so much potential in this world? My boy that I held close in my arms like my own heart?

The universe must have wobbled–gone slightly off course–just for a fraction of a nanosecond, for that to happen. Vaughn slipped through a tiny crack in the cosmos.

And then he was gone. And I can’t reach him, drag him back, no matter what I do. No matter how much I dredge through all my missteps. Everybody’s missteps. Society’s failings.

I suppose the less I ruminate on all the thousand of moments that somehow converged into Vaughn’s leaving this world, the more I will be able to say I accept his death.

But I still know the universe cracked.