Headstone

We went to choose a headstone for Bryn this weekend. As I write that I ask myself, "how is that even possible?". Honestly, I don't know. I really don't know how we continue to get out of bed in the morning, walk the dogs, have breakfast, shower, get dressed, go to work ... and just continue living day after day. Many times I've not wanted to and many times I have thought, even if only briefly, how easy it would be to just stop. The drive home from work is the danger time for me; the end of yet another day of meaningless meetings, empty emails, contemptible conversations and worthless work.

Having such thoughts of how easy it would be to drive into a bridge support and stop the monotony is frightening. Don't get me wrong, I work for a very employee focused company, doing a job that I used to enjoy very much and actually see value in. It's difficult to find meaning in many things after your son is killed by a horse on the road. Still looking for a meaning. 

We also got to meet another couple this weekend who's son died three years ago. Their son was the victim of a fatal accident too; he was shot, in the head, by another teenager who was messing around with a loaded gun. The couple clearly loved their son, and three years on, the pain is still very evident and the emotion still very raw. It seems there is only heartache in store for us now.

The headstone we selected for Bryn is quite simple. He would have approved, I'm sure. They produced a computer generated image for us so we could see how it will look. We got to see Bryn's name engraved on his soon to be constructed headstone. The headstone, they told us, has a lifetime warranty. Yet one more reminder of how permanent this sentence is. 

Yes, I ask myself countless times every day, "How is this even possible?"