It was a hard weekend. It was an emotional weekend. And I am glad that I rented a car so I could drive, and drive, and drive just to escape it all. I find it peaceful and serene when I am focused on getting from point A to point B safely. I crank up the radio or CD player, and sing at the top of my lungs, and my lead foot occasionally pushes me to 120km/hr. I quickly decrease my speed and feel in control. This whole past year I have felt as if nothing was in my hands and everything was out of my locus of control. I think that’s why I like driving so much. No one is in control but me then.

Loading the car up on Saturday with his things was hard. I painstakingly went through most of Tim’s things last month and set aside things I either knew he’s want given to Matt (his brother) or that I felt I didn’t want anyone else to have but Matt. I bawled as I was sorting. It was as if I was losing him all over again by giving his things away. But I kept hearing his voice telling me it was time. That in order for me to keep his memory alive, I had to share him and his favourite thing with those closest to him. I almost didn’t. I almost wanted to keep it all. But then I’d have a shrine. I’ll never ever be able to have him the way I want to again. And he’d hate what I’ll have become by preserving his things and his memory like that. But it was fucking hard. It was one of the hardest things I had to do.

Since I was already in so much pain, and a mess, I went through his closet too. I lovingly packed up all his sweaters, pants, ties, shirts, khakis, shorts, jeans, hats, scarves, mittens and shoes. All except his t-shirts (for the memory quilt), a few sweatshirts I still wear, that one special sweater, and his work boots. And I packed them all for Out of the Cold. And I called the church and arranged for a drop off date.

Yesterday was that day. I gave Matt what I set aside for him, and once I got back to Toronto, I took the 5 large boxes of clothing for the church and packed them into the car. And as soon as I sat in the drivers seat and saw them sitting on the back seat I cried. I sat there and cried for what felt like an eternity. I wasn’t even sure I was going to be able to compose myself enough to drive downtown and get them to the church.

And then this song came on…. Josh Groban’s "Never Let Go" http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=dKJ24gn3taQ

I can't understand it.
The search for an answer is met with a darker day.
And we've been handed these moments forever.
But I'm reassured there's another way.
You don't have to close your eyes.
There is room for love again.
Ease the pain to realize
All that love can be.
Forced apart by time and sand.
Take a step and take my hand.
And don't let it go.
Never let go.

Broken, once connected,
We were so strong and so blessed in a simple way.
So don't let me go it alone.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below but me.
Face the truth to realize.
All that we could be.
Torn apart by rage and fear.
Hold onto what brought you here.
Don't let it go.
Never let go.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below.
Don't let go.

And I started the car, and I listened and knew in that moment, that I don’t have to let him go, by lettings parts or things of his go. He will be with me forever, and I will carry him as part of me for the rest of my life. It was as if he was telling me it was ok – that its what he would have wanted – that as much as it hurt, I wasn’t “giving him away”. I was ensuring his spirit would go on by the good deeds he did on Earth and all the ways he will help people with his death.

And then just like Tim, I dreamt of him last night…he was there; I felt him. I begged all week long for him to visit me. I wanted to see him, hear him, and hold him again. We were holding hands, and he was telling me where he wanted to take me. He was all dressed up, in a nice shirt and tie with dress pants. I never got to see his face, but I was able to be wrapped up in his arms in a nice hug and hear his beautiful voice. He told me he was happy. He told me he had a surprise for me and was taking me out on the town for a nice dinner. He sounded so alive and felt so real. I didn’t want to let go of his hand. I could feel the warmth emanating from his palms. We were walking – it was sunny and clear. It felt like Autumn. He told me he loved me. He whispered he’d always be there in my ear. We never got to the restaurant. I remember holding his hand, and then he was gone. My hand was still warm, and crumpled from being wrapped tightly in his.

And I knew as I smiled upon waking up, that he had been there. That he had held my hand yesterday, and came to tell me it was all good. That he was okay with the decisions I made for us, and that I never have to let him go for he will never let me go. And that is just fine with me.