Day 21, 11Apr10

So I've survived 21 days since Alicia died. Each day, I look around our house and still feel her presence. We have quite a few pictures of her from her memorial. The cards from friends and other folks who were touched by her story. At times, I sit in her room looking at all of her belongings. Just exploring bulletin boards and stuff.

The cornor's report was issued on Friday, 09Apr10. I knew that it would be released last week. But I was still shocked to hear it on the radio. I had known she had drank alcohol that night, but to hear it over the radio she was legally drunk...still hit me pretty hard.

It's funny. The nomenclature I am using. I keep saying 'Alicia died' versus 'our loss' or other euphemisms. When I am asked, which I have been since, how many children do I have, I still say 2. I still talk about her in the present tense. These are things which I am sure will change. But it will be a conscious change...one which I will not take lightly.

I've been to therapy twice since she died. I was able to reconnect with a therapist who I had seen for over 1 year about 5 years ago. We had a nice connection. I sense I will see her every other week or so. A very close friend sent us a book called Beyond Tears which was written by 7 women after losing a child. I am relating to alot of what they are expressing. I am planning on attending a Compassionate Firneds meeting in San Rafael next week. This group meets once a month.

I strolled down to Tennessee Valley yesterday with my friend Sandra. This was the 3rd time I have done so since Alicia's memorial. It's about a 3.7 mile hike with a pretty good climb once I get to the beach. I hike up to the bunker where Alicia and her friends were hanging out. I then continue to hike up the hill just about to where she would have last been. The view from there is stunning. It is also scary high above the water and beach below... where she fell. There is a make shift memorial at the bunker with flowers, paper cranes, her memrial program, and a mini-volleyball with messages from some of her coaches. I plan to continue to go every week that I am in town and it is not rainy.

She asked in essence why do I go down there. I do not feel closer to Alicia there. I guess I go because it is the last place Alicia was alive. It rips me apart to know how she fell as described by the coronor and then to see it. Even though I know better, I feel as if I should have been there to protect her. But I also know I could not have.

Over time, I guess life will get easier. I read that the pain does not go away, but that I will be able to deal with it better. I am concerned for my family. We have to find a new 'normal' and forge stronger bonds if we are to survive together.