404 Error

Imagine that you sit down in front of your computer and type in a web page that you've been to hundreds of times before, but instead of that familiar site popping up you receive the dreaded 404 Error. The message tells you that what you are looking for can not be found.  You can reload the page as often as you want, but the same stubborn error reappears each time.

Perhaps it shows the geek in me but every time I look for Daniel and realize he isn't here, 404 Not Found pops into my head.  Daniel spent a good deal of his free time in front of the computer in our study.  He loved to read web comics and play video games.  Most of the time I was right there beside him. Sometimes though, I would be in our bedroom across the hallway reading or something and he would close the door to keep the noise from disturbing me.  When I walked by to get a drink I would always peek in and blow him a kiss or ask if he needed anything.

I keep the door closed now.  This way I can imagine that he is still there, sitting in his favorite chair, guarding the flag from the enemy troops.  If I concentrate hard enough I can almost hear that full-throttled laugh that is so familiar to me floating through the door.  I pause outside sometimes, hand on the door knob.  I know if I open it what I will find.  But as long as it is closed, I can pretend for a few moments that my heart hasn't been ripped from my chest.

At night when I lay down to go to sleep, I close my eyes so tightly.  I turn to face his side of the bed and reach out.  If I don't peek, I can almost trick myself into believing that he is right there with his fingers inches from mine.  But when I open my eyes, it is always the same thing... Not Found.

I love you Daniel.

The girl in the mirror

The girl in the mirror looking back at me is wearing a Metallica t-shirt.  I don't expect this and it catches me off guard for a moment.

You see, we're experiencing a bit of an identity crisis together - this mirror girl and I.  I never know what I am going to see when our eyes meet.

Today, she is snuggled into one of Daniel's old t-shirts.  I never really liked Metallica.  I prefer what Daniel calls "happy, peace loving hippy music." But I sure did love it when Daniel sang to me.  I always knew I could put on Astronomy and he wouldn't resist singing along.

I was always my true, best self when I was with Daniel.  He was mine and I was his.  Together we were amazing.  Without him, I no longer feel like myself.

Now I am trying on these new roles.  Brave, Stoic, Responsible, Together.  But I know, I would not be these things if Daniel was here.  In his arms, I would be able to be weak, sad, and broken.  Then he would use his "radio announcer" voice in an overly dramatic report of my problems until I broke out laughing so hard that the tears changed magically to joy.

It occurs to me that Daniel will no longer be here to tell me how much he loves to see me in pigtails.  He won't point out how cute it is that I insist on bare feet at all possible times.  He won't beg me to say "worcester sauce" because the way I mispronounce it is just so adorable.

Like all of us, I am perceived differently by different people.  To Daniel, I was this cute, funny, smart, amazing person.  I can still wear pigtails and go barefoot but his Amy no longer exists. Because he is no longer here to have her reflected through his eyes.

We hear that grief gets better with time.  That someday we can get back to ourselves.  Yet this kind of loss cuts too deep to not change us.  I don't think that the pain ever really lessens.  Time just gives us a chance to forget what it felt like before we had the scars.

I love you Daniel.