Change.
For better or worse,, it is the one constant in my life since Kenny has died.
Death.
The absolute worst change that has ever been a part of this life I lead.
As I was gazing toward the wondrous constellations at 4am--I wondered how different it is to be on the other side of life; being able to navigate freely through space and time.
How much I would enjoy being among the stars and the moonlight every night instead of a bed in a room.
I think of the room Kenny left behind. He must not miss it . Probably not miss a thing.
Not even the black closet which made the room all his own.
I spent many a time crying in his closet after he was gone. Packing it up was extremely difficult because there were so many memories there - in his books, especially his notebooks with his drawings and his personal language written in symbols I could not understand. And all the clothes that hung there for months after he departed, hanger after hanger of black shirts and black jeans. Black was his color of choice.
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[THE BLACK CLOSET]]]]]]]]]]]]
this is Kenny's black closet. I think we painted it during the time he was out of school and in therapy. I remember he wanted his entire room to be black. At the time, I thought an entire room of black walls would only add to his depression so we agreed on beginning the painting project with the closet. we were supposed to paint the walls a different color and then paint the baseboards and trim black. however, that never happened.... we never got more than the closet done. It must have been a year or so that he had his black closet, which I must admit was extremely cool. it was a two or three day project and it was one of the funnest times I had with Kenny in his room. we talked and laughed. I can picture him in his ripped up black jeans and skulls t-shirt with a giant grin on his face . I wear that t-shirt now. I don't know how he managed to not get any paint on it. Actually, it was a fairly easy job for the most part. we looked at a lot of his childhood mementos together. He still had his pikachu sweatshirt from an old halloween costume. how much I wish I still had that sweatshirt.
and it's odd that I cannot find any pictures of Kenny from that halloween. he also had a shirt from when he was an alligator in a school play.
1997- 6 years old--- Kenny |
1st grade~~ Kenny was attending Bullard Talent Elementary. As was required-- he participated in a play and a musical each school year, and played an instrument. His instrument of choice was the flute, I think? He was there for 1st and 2nd grade and then he'd had enough, insisting on going to a "regular" school with Vincent.
This particular play was called the Alphabet play and each first grader was an animal that coincided with the letter they were chosen to play. The best part of this costume was the hat by far. I made the hat with tons of green tissue paper and humungous wiggle eyes. It was still in his closet when I packed it up last year. I wanted to hold onto the hat, but I can't remember if I did. What a strange looking costume, huh? Poor Kenny!! Those green socks stuck around for many years I remember... On the positive side, Kenny enjoyed 1st grade quite a lot! His 1st grade teacher was his favorite until high school. Her name was Mrs. Condon, although she was lovingly referred to as "Mrs. C" from students, staff, and parents. Her room was a calming and magical space. She had a make believe bog complete with green netting hanging from the ceilings and a pretend pond with fake pussy willows and bunches of stuffed frogs and pillows. It was a very comfortable refuge from the stress of being a 1st grader. Frogs were the main theme in this classroom. I remember taking a picture of Kenny on a frog at Disneyland that school year because he wanted to give it to Mrs. C.
Those were the easier days of life. Before the horrific changes of teenage depression and suicide. I suppose in his mind it was the same frame of thought as when he ended his days at Bullard Talent--} he had enough life and insisted on ending his days here on Earth.
What a depressing change in life that has been for me.
I try my best to cope. As of yet, I have not completely succeeded. If that day ever comes -- it will be a welcome change.