This was my first full week out in the world, and it was only terrible sometimes.  The brain never stops churning, but for the most part I was able to handle it.

The toughest moments were whenever I realized I was in the middle of a ‘first’ I wasn’t having.  Silas was not in the shop with me as I bagged coffee.  I didn’t get to take him for a walk around the block before I fired up the roaster.  There was no working lunch with Dad, no coffee delivery run with Silas strapped in behind me.

I had been picturing that for months.  Him in the car with me as I made my rounds and music on and the beautiful fall leaves a cacophony of color as we cruised through Connecticut.  After a few weeks we all would get in the car and head up here, up to New Hampshire to my brother’s place and we’d play in the woods.

Instead of play we have a brutal and necessary task tomorrow.  We are going to plant a tree, and we are going to cast some of Silas’ remains into the earth where we plant that tree.  So many other things should be happening instead.  But this must be done, and so we will do it.  The raw, cold earth will be a reflection of our ravaged souls.

This will not be the last time we do this, though.  We intend to plant trees in New Haven, at Bean & Leaf and another in San Francisco, all in his name.

Several people have had trees planted in Huron-Manistee National Forest through the Arbor Day Foundation in memory of Silas.  His names means “of the trees” so it is a perfect way to honor his memory and let his brief, beautiful life contribute a lasting good for this planet.

We went to a concert tonight.  It wouldn’t have been Silas’ first because he would still be much too young for that level of mayhem and noise.  We never intended to attend because we expected our lives to be very different right now.  But things are different than what they should be, so he came with me tonight.  I held him close in my heart as I held Lu in my arms and every time I heard a note or beat or chord and moved my body, I said his name in my mind.  Silas, Silas, Silas.  Every single moment.

It was our first live music since Silas came into our lives.  It was hard to enjoy the notes and miss him so much at the same time.  I hate that he will never get to hear the music we love and dance with us.  Instead he will dance with the breeze in his trees and whirl through the sky in his stars.

It isn’t enough, but it will have to do.