“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.” ~ Henri Nouwen


Sometimes…it all just hits me, over and over again. The fact that he’s dead, and he isn’t coming back. Today I felt that way, and I couldn’t get the feeling to go away. Hell…right now, I still feel like I’m dying inside. I know somewhere that I need him, more than he ever needed me. He was like a brace that kept me standing during life, and now that he was gone…I was left to wallow through life, limping behind everybody else.

I think it had been all the snow that made me think of him…the small flurries that littered the weekend, reminded me of the snow days that I had spent with him. And how I would never spend another snowy day…or any day with Daniel, ever again.

I schlepped myself over the school all day, doing as I was told…even if I was just barely making it through every lecture and lesson. Just doing the minimum, not really wanting to try all that much. But my teachers were used to this I think.

Ever since Daniel died I’d had these stretches of time, where I just didn’t want to do anything at all. I would have rather lie in my bed at home, than really do anything that considered moving. But I decided to try and tough through it for my mother, she didn’t need me sitting at home making everything feel depressing.

At least I felt that away, until I made it to my 4th period class, finding myself not wanting to sit through my English class, I would have much rather been sleeping. So I asked the teacher if I could go to the nurse, to which she of course nodded, wrote me up a pass and sent me on my way.

The walk to the nurse’s office felt like it took longer than it should have, and I wished my feet might carry me faster, and just get me to my destination. By the time I got there, I felt like crying…and I don’t think much was keeping me from doing so. I was the only person in the nurse’s office, asides from the nurse and a few old cots.

She took one look at me, and told me to call my mother. I stood impatiently, waiting as the phone rang noisily in my ear.

“Hello?” asked a voice that was undoubtedly my father; I hadn’t wanted to catch him, before he went to work. Was it his day off today? No…that was right, on Monday’s he always came back for lunch, and then went back to the office.

“Uh…hey dad, it’s Damien. Is mom there?” I asked, realizing I didn’t have to state my name, since I was the only son he head.

There was a bit of jabbering on the other end of the line, and soon my mother was on. Sounding a bit worried, but mostly curious.

“Hey mom, it’s Damien…” I muttered quietly, as I glanced around the office I was in nervously. “I-I’m not feeling all that well…could you come pick me up?” I asked, as my stomach did flip-flops at the possibility, that she might say no, and send me off to class anyways.

Luckily, my mother decided that picking me up, wouldn’t put too much of a damper on my day. By the time I was home, my dad had gone back to work…which I was quite thankful though. He wasn’t the biggest fan of his kids missing school, unless they were actually sick.

But I felt bad enough, and I didn’t want to explain myself. My mother just knew that I was upset, and agreed to let me stay home.

I barely made it as far as the couch, before I was crumpled on it. Turning on the TV, so there would be noise, when my mother went out to the store. The soft droning of the voices on the TV, were enough to lull me into a deep sleep, that I needed more than I knew.