For a few weeks now, since you passed, Sr. Carole has been encouraging me to read the Gospel accounts, the stories around Jesus’ resurrection. I tried a little bit, but I didn’t put forth a lot of effort.

Like most mornings, maybe every morning, you were the first thing I thought of. In the dark, I missed listening for you. Your snores or snorts, your coughs or any sounds I might hear from our room above yours. I went downstairs and leaned against your bed. I put my face in your stroller pillow, then into your Baby Yoda pillow. Smelling for you. I remembered the smell of your hair, both the last time I kissed you in the ED, and the last time I kissed you in your casket. I thought about your smell, and all the ways I used to give you a bath. When you were a baby, I would hold you in the shower. When you got older I used your bath chair. During COVID I would sit in the bathtub with you, two big boys in that small tub. And in our new house I sat you in your new shower chair. I really enjoyed it. Those were our times. I miss it so much. After you were clean I would smell your hair, and kiss your face. And I loved holding your clean, scrubbed, dry hands. Ever since you were a baby I held your hand. First your finger, then your hand. It didn’t matter if you were in bed, in your wheelchair during mass, or sitting next to you on the couch. I just really miss holding your hand in mine. I forced myself to go to the gym to try and do something else, other than get lost in my own memories, in my imaginations.

After lifting, it was still dark but the sky was starting to light up. I visited you at the cemetery. I told you about everything I was thinking of. I told you I missed you, and said I hoped you had a nice day. I knew that while your ashes are there, that you are free to go and be wherever. But it was comforting to say that to you, just like I said I love you and am always proud of you. During your school days, I would always wonder what you were up to. In your wheelchair, on adventures in the class or during your fieldtrips.

Today, as the sun came out it became a gorgeous day. Walking up to get lunch, I was so struck as to how nice it was. The sun was out but not hot. A nice cool breeze gusted in the shade of the buildings. I thought that as beautiful as a day it is, I don’t want it. I don’t want to live in this life. This isn’t the life I want, it’s not mine. I want to go back, I want you back. After I ate, as I started to walk back down the street to work, I saw a man, maybe homeless pass by in a motorized wheelchair. I didn’t pay much attention. And as I waited on the corner I heard a cry out, and he had fallen. He thought there was a ramp in the curb, and he went off the curb. That chair stopped and he fell completely out. His face and head went right into a puddle on the road, on Charles Street. I put my back down and went over. I held his hand and arm and in a moment, recognized the  juxtaposition. His hand instead of yours. He was dirty, both from falling and from however else. I started to pull him up by his arm but he said he couldn’t stand. So I pulled his wheelchair closer. A young kid came over, he helped with the wheelchair and together we lifted this guy up. I asked him his name, he said “Joe”. His brow was bleeding from where he faceplanted into the puddle. He didn’t want us to call anyone, he just wanted to get going. But he thanked us. I still have mud and dirt on my sleeves.

Continuing my walk back down the hill, I couldn’t help but think they are connected. My missing you, and me being there when Joe fell down. I think eventually, I will get used to this. And maybe I will stop wishing I wasn’t here, in this life. And maybe it was your hand that I held, after all.

As soon as I got back here, to my office, I wrote this and then felt compelled to look up the story of Jesus appearing to Mary. The stories were always so puzzling, why didn’t anyone recognize Jesus? Why did he take those forms of others?

Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene

11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look[a] into the tomb; 12 and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” 14 When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew,[b] “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

You taught me my whole life, William. Thank you for staying with me, being patient with me. I miss you.