Three years

And here it is, May 21st again, the third anniversary of our hearts being broken and our lives being changed. I'm not sure what to say about today - there's so much emotional baggage, so many memories tied to it. It's the kickoff to a series of anniversaries over the next couple of weeks - 3 years since his funeral, 5 years since that fateful headache that sent us to the ER, since a CT scan found "something", since his surgery and pathology results. It's a day that I can't forget, and as much as it pains me, I don't want to forget it.

Mari recorded some of her memories of Kol, called 21 Things You May Have Forgotten About Kolbjorn, and with her permission, I'm sharing it here:

1. Kolbjorn had a cough for most of his life
2. He would often be awake before six am
3. He would wear the same pair of socks for weeks 
4. He'd wear the same shirt for a week
5. In the summer, his footwear of choice was dress shoes
6. He had a dance for everything 
7. He liked clothes shopping
8. He wanted to go to Denmark 
9. He'd have one toy that never left his side 
10. He was visited by the 501st Legion 
11. Some of the meds he was on made him the worst person to be around 
12. Some of his other meds smelled terrible 
13. He never cut his hair after chemotherapy 
14. When he was little, he said he would marry his cousin 
15. He didn't mind playing Barbies
16. He would say the full name of books and movies 
17. He'd play video games standing up, right in front of the screen 
18. He'd watch movies over and over until he had them memorized
19. He wanted to play the oboe or trombone
20. If he could not find clothes of his own, he would wear his sisters'
21. He once fit seventeen grapes in his mouth

Today will be a mostly quiet day. I've taken the day off work so I can spend it with my family (and honestly, I don't think I'd be able to do much of anything that requires concentration). We've been playing some Mario Kart and Super Mario Bros games, we'll visit his grave and do a balloon release, we'll likely watch some Star Wars or Clone Wars - these are our new traditions for the 21st, if you can call doing something three years in a row a "tradition".

New traditions. Our "new normal" (I still don't like that term). Life goes on, even when it seems like it can't. Our hearts are broken, but they are healing. And even though our family doesn't feel whole, we are still a family. Thank you for being with us on this journey, for your support, for your prayers, for your encouragement. May God bless you all.