Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Can I Really Do This Again?

I've written this post about a hundred times, sometimes making it as far as 3 sentences in, sometimes giving up after temporarily forgetting my password and writing nothing at all.  I've been afraid and overwhelmed.  Afraid that my words would be inadequate, sound trite, not convey what I really want to say.  Overwhelmed that some days I cannot string together a coherent thought, much less a group of sentences.

My oldest son died.

My son.  MY SON.

Spencer Duncan was a brave and honorable young man, 21 years old, serving his country when his helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan.  SHOT DOWN.  My son, my caring, brilliant, funny, adventurous, deeply curious, profoundly witty son will not be coming home.  And my heart is broken.

When I am able to string together words again, I will try to open the curtains and allow people to look into our grief.  That's a daunting task for me, because I am pretty certain I will never adequately convey how deeply we hurt or how well we have been cared for.  We are surrounded by amazing friends and family.  Our community has been incredibly respectful and caring. We are loved by our big God.  We are comforted by stories of Spencer from friends, co-workers, fellow soldiers, and strangers.

There are so many stories to tell, so many thoughts (however random they may be), so many ways we've been touched.  We've been blessed to come to know some truly amazing people through Spencer's death. We've been blessed to be reminded of some truly amazing people we already knew.  And, as weird as this may sound, we've been reminded of how truly amazing Spencer was.

And that is, I believe, why I will continue to write.  I will tell the stories.  I will introduce the heroes.  I will honor my son's sacrifice.  And with whatever time I have left on this earth, I will try to make a difference.

But mostly I will continue to write because I can still hear Spencer's voice asking me when I'm going to post another blog or write my book because he's running out of things to read.  What can I say?  The kid made me laugh, and he made me write.