how I am coping, part 4, remembrances

After tossing the idea of going to this and that to honor Love, I did contact the Boss and ask if the job was doing anything to honor Love. This is how I ended up at the candlelight vigil.

I was so freaking nervous that I had to Google “candlelight vigil” to see what to expect. I watched a YouTube clip and went out and bought the candles and cups and came home and sat on the floor and drew circles, cut holes, and stabbed the candles through. I made several just in case others would need them.

I didn’t know what to put it all in. At first, I was going to stuff them in my special bag (if you don’t know about the special bag, go back to yesterday and hopefully it will be funny — as it is funny all over again to me thinking that I would’ve had that bag at the very first event for him that I attended). But I didn’t want to carry this big, bright bag because I didn’t want to feel any more obvious than I did. I wanted to fade into the background.

At the vigil, I immediately recognized his son. I had only seen him in photos previously. He ran right past me, playing, just like a child would. I was excited and scared. I smiled. Then, I recognized his wife and mother. I thought I was going to throw up. I wasn’t expecting them to cross the Bay to be in attendance for this. I couldn’t stop watching them. The pain in his mother’s face is an image I can still see.

It didn’t start on time and it wasn’t a large event. I went for the purpose of maybe connecting to him through the community, through people that knew him, but I still felt a little isolated while I tried not to stand out. When the cameras would come near, I would turn my body, or relocate; but I was standing at a distance almost the whole time. My face was already swollen from crying bouts during the day, but I don’t think I cried during the vigil.

I listened and watched. His son spoke. He behaved as a child would. He shed some tears another time he spoke. He kept wanting to speak. I tried to see Bo in his face. Bo would live through his son obviously because that is the bloodline. His wife spoke. I tried to feel Bo through her and I watched her every movement and expression in the way that I remember Bo watching me. Her family members spoke. His mom spoke and choked up. I could feel her. But other people spoke and it created a different energy in me.

One guy who spoke, was there to bring religion into it. He said he didn’t even know Bo. I was kinda pissed. But again, I know that this stuff is for the healing of the living. Listening to the football coaches speak, I had to laugh, because I was trying to figure out which one of them, or which ones, Bo didn’t like. Love and I had several conversations about this; and so I became amused by watching this display of “he was a great man.”

It took me a long time to realize how hard this might have been for the players. I didn’t think about how much time they actually spent with him until I compared it to the time I spent with him. Before school started, he was with them in the gym several days a week. When school started, it was football practice or game, 5 days a week. It started right after school at 3, and sometimes when he would call me afterward, on his way home, it would be late 6. And games end at like 10. Maybe even, they had spent MORE time with him than I did. But still, of course, it wasn’t the same. I feel for them because they are children though.

I made it through the vigil. Cried in the car. Cried at home.