The transmission on our car went a few weeks back.  I was so pissed off that a Toyota transmission completely blew apart with only 100k miles on the car. The reason we got a Toyota was because things like that were not supposed to happen.  Shelled out some cash, got it fixed and now we’re good to go for another 150k miles.

Years ago I was snowboarding and stupidly went off a tiny jump, lost control and landed hard on my outstretched hands.  Snapped both wrists, one just a fracture, the other pretty bad.  For 8 weeks I was in tough shape and for a while there I wondered if I would ever be able to drive or really have full mobility in my wrists again.  Only months after the accident I was healed, healthy and as a good as new.

Over the years I have had many friends, and I count my amazing friendships as one of the most important aspects of my life.  I feel incredibly lucky to have crafted a collection of wonderful people that are there for me when I need them, and who I am more than happy to help out with whatever they need, whenever it is.  Even better are the times when we can all hang out, have fun, enjoy music or a meal and just relax into each other’s company.  But things have not always gone smoothly.  There are disagreements, misunderstandings and stupidity that sometimes come between friends and it is terrible to have a falling out with someone you are close to.  Whenever possible I try to heal those rifts, to find common ground, to voice sincere apologies and to find ways to move on and grow even closer despite past troubles.

We don’t have that luxury this time.  We don’t get a second chance with Silas.  There is no way to fix this and make it right. We can’t just take our souls to the Mojo Mechanic, have them replace the blown out windows and cracked thresholds, give us a shine and then put us back together again.  Silas Orion is utterly beyond us now.  The only ways to reach him are through our hearts and our tears and our crumpled souls.

Never before have I experienced such crushing finality.  I have had grandparents die and felt sad for their passing, but that was natural and expected.  I felt good about the wonderful times we had together and comforted that they were no longer in pain.  But this loss is like the swipe of a razorblade that slices our hopes from the harsh cloth of reality itself.  We are not just mourning the loss of Silas, but also the loss of what we were about to become.  We are mourning our family denied before it could even form.  For now, we are not the Mom and Dad we wanted to be.

Someday we will have that chance, and that will assuage our loss to some degree.  That will be a second chance for us to have a family and we are both terrified and excited by that prospect.  But with Silas there is no do-over or redemption, no repair, no apology, no surgery that can return him to us.  We are forever apart, and for now we are left in pieces.