We survived the holidays

Lou at the mountain this week :)

Sorry it’s been a while since I posted an update.  We stayed at our friends’ house in Vermont through the end of the week and had very little internet connectivity.  It was nice.  We enjoy our time up there because everything just seems so quiet and simple. and the snow is just beautiful, but I was missing Ty so much (of course, I miss him always no matter what).  Gavin had a great time with his friends, though, and so did we.

Light sabers and moustaches

The last time we were in that house, Ty was scooting across the floor on his behind.  He loved to play with the magnets on the fridge and there were a couple of them that played music.  I remember watching him with a smile, but also feeling so sad because he was so different from the other boys.  He couldn’t run around and play.  The magnets he played with were baby toys and he was four.  Stuff like that used to make me worry about whether or not the treatment was going to cause learning and developmental delays.  I feared he wouldn’t catch up to the others and lead a “normal” life some day.  I wish those were my worries now.   Like I said so many times, I had so much hope and faith knowing that he would beat the cancer.  That he would continue to amaze and astonish.  Now I struggle to transfer that hope and faith in knowing that he will continue to do so, but in a very different way.  I am grateful for all of the signs he sends me.  I don't know how I would survive without them to reassure me that he is okay.


Ty in the car leaving Okemo one year ago

Going to the mountain triggered much of the same emotions.  The last time we were there we built a snowman with Ty.  He went snow tubing.  He went on the “snow coaster” roller coaster with me.  He had such a great time.  This year it was Gavin’s turn.  We put him in ski school and there is nothing cuter than a three-year old on a pair of tiny skis.  There really isn’t.  He spent the first lesson slipping, sliding and falling, but by Friday he was able to do the “wedge” and almost come to a complete stop on his own.  I am so proud of him.  It was five degrees below zero on Thursday, and he stuck it out like a champ out there :)

Look at him go!!

Each night this week, Lou would take Gavin in the hot-tub outside.  They would look up at the stars, pick out the brightest one, and talk to Ty.  “I miss you Ty.  I wish you could come and play with me.   But I know you can’t,” is what Gavin would say.  Hearing Lou tell me that made me cry beyond control.  I am so proud of Gavin, he really is such a great kid, but this is all just so unfair.  He loved his time at the mountain with his friends.  He plays so nice with the other kids and has so much fun.  I can only imagine how happy Ty and Gavin would both have been to play together.  They loved each other so much.  Gavin seems so lonely sometimes and it breaks my already broken heart even more.

After Ty died, Lou asked that every time we clink our glasses we toast to Ty.  “To Ty!” we say.  I am so glad he made this rule, because I imagine that over time we will encounter plenty of new people who don’t know our story.  When I’m 70 and toasting with strangers, I will be happy to explain why I insist on toasting “to Ty” in addition to whatever else on that occasion.  I want to talk about him always.  This will be a way that I can always do so, considering I will surely be drinking wine until my last days.

The holidays were very painful, but we survived.  I wasn’t sure we would, but here we are, January 2013.  Every Christmas decoration in our home triggers a memory of Ty.  New Year’s Eve feels like a joke because even though 2012 was the worst year of our lives, Ty was here in 2012.  I don’t want to put that “behind us.”  2013 is our first year without him, and there’s absolutely nothing happy about that.  So no, there is no “happy new year” for the Campbell’s, but we will survive.  We will keep smiling.  We will keep looking up for ladybugs, falling leaves and rainbows.  I hope I continue to see him everywhere.    

Some recent signs from Ty... While I was snowboarding yesterday, I was thinking of Ty the whole way down this beautiful wooded trail (and every trail).  It was just me and him and the beautiful snowy trail and a  huge, beautiful falling leaf cut right across my path.  The only one I saw all week, because all of the trees on the mountain are evergreens or bare by now.  Also, when Lou and I were at the top of the mountain at Whistler, we were greeted by some pretty amazing rainbows in the sky.  It's hard to see in the photo when it's this small, but there are a couple of them here.  I know these things happen on a very normal and frequent basis, but I also know that Ty is with us, and I love feeling his presence in the beautiful things I see every day.  It shouldn't be this way.  It should be his beautiful smile that I'm seeing every day instead, but my desperate, aching heart will take any bit of my Ty that I can get.

 
A couple of weeks ago, we received the most incredible package.  It was a project treasure box, and it is filled with notes from so many of Ty's supporters.  Lou and I were overwhelmed by all of the love, and so surprised by the gift.  It was wonderful and it truly is a treasure.  We put it on the table and haven't had the strength to read your letters, but tonight we decided to start reading them aloud to one another.  Just a few each night.  So we can go to sleep feeling warm and happy about how far Ty's story has gone, and how many lives he touched in such beautiful ways.  Thank you all so very much. 

Please continue to share Ty’s story.  We hope to have a website up and running for the foundation this month, and I can’t wait to share it with you all.  Please keep sending us your stories about how Ty has inspired you, and pictures of your kids being kids in honor of Ty.  Send to muddypuddleproject@gmail.com.