Evan, today would have been your 19th birthday. You were just hitting your glorious, youthful prime. You hadn’t even begun to shave yet. Last night, I came upon this fun enneagram post and I thought of you almost immediately when I saw Enneagram 4 “The one with the great outfits asking deep questions.”
This got me into the brief tailspin of googling Enneagram 4 and now all I can say is I’m sorry I didn’t know. The online profiles of Enneagram 4 read almost the same as your journal does. It’s like you are speaking through it. But now it’s too late. If only I had taken you more seriously. If only I had ingested the nuances of your personality more deeply, Evan. I wish I had had more empathy. But as I continue reading and I come upon the “Personal Growth Recommendations” part of the personality description, I see that I also was giving you good advice. I wish I had been there to transmit more of it to you and to keep you accountable to following it, though. And mostly, I just really really miss you.
Learning your Myers Brigg personality profile a few weeks ago had a similar effect on me. I, who loved you most in the world because I am your mother, did not understand you. I thought you would grow out of it, but you were just an old soul trapped in a young body. But now, the worst has happened. I must speak to you and of you in the past tense.
Today, the heart-loss-ache is back. My chest is hollow and the bottom has dropped out. I feel like I’m in a freefall. Happy Birthday, my son. I will never stop loving you to the moon and back.
