Trying to Choose Happy

Dear Aaron,

Were you there today? Was Grandma Kim? Were you dancing together with the classes?

Today your class, your school danced, and they remembered you.

Your teacher asked if they could put your name on their sleeves, and if they could dedicate their song to you. I did not expect what I saw when I arrived.  

Your classmates described you and the words were on the pillars. 

Two years ago your class danced to "Still Standing," and when you were there with your sign that said, "I stand for good days" I cried. 

Actually, I think I teared up each year, but this year, I sobbed. 

Oh, my beautiful boy, you are such an amazing teacher. You have touched so many hearts and souls. 

Your class danced to "Happy" and my son, you epitomized happy. And smart, and friendly, and sweet, supportive, kind and funny,  The program stated: "Remember to find joy and happiness in everything and always look for a reason to smile! This song is for Aaron. We love you!" The back of their shirts said, "Choose Happy."

And at the end, they spelled out, "We 🩷 Aaron!" 

I sat with friends. They held me. Oh my heart... 

Your teacher wrote a beautiful tribute to you in the yearbook:  

Aaron was a joy to be around no matter what. His smile and laugh would light up our classroom as he cracked jokes, gave compliments, and teased us on occasion. He loved science and reading and was such a smart kid. 

Aaron had a thirst for learning that is unparalleled. Even during his hard times, he always wanted to be growing and progressing. Aaron's family had a theme of "better days"; Aaron embodied that phrase. He was always pushing himself for better days, even when he wasn't feeling his best.

Aaron was a big part of our school, and touched the lives of everyone he interacted with. We miss him at our school every day. He taught us all how to love unconditionally and to find joy in the small things. We love you, Aaron! 

You should be finishing 8th grade, starting high school next year. You would be registering for Seminary and have an updated IEP.  Oh, Aaron, today is hard, so hard. I miss you, I'm worried about other family members. I'm finding myself going over medical reports again to help someone else, looking for clues, searching for information. 

I'm so glad for everything I learned because of you, and from you! What a blessing you are in my life, still, even now. 

But tonight I knelt at your grave, running my fingers through the grass because I couldn't touch your hair. And I wept.  

I'm trying to make you proud. I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying to carry on. 

I saw a poem today that resonated within me:

Grief
Someone asked me how I survived it and I said, I haven't yet. 
I walked your path with you for so long, and I'm still trying to find my way back to mine.
This part is unpaved, unchartered, compasses don't work in here. I am still in the woods, but sunlight is leaking through the leaves, it's not just dark all the time anymore.
I have not survived it, no, but I am everyday surviving it.

- Kristina Mahr 

I'm trying to survive. I'm trying to choose happy.