August 2, 2002
Dear Jamie,

Life is so different now. I used to feel that I was basically living a blessed existence. Problems came up, but nothing insurmountable. The world looked like a beautiful place. I have noticed something interesting lately. I can still see that the world is beautiful. I look at the ocean, plant life, mountains in the distance, a painting. The beauty is there, but it is coated by this new haze of grief and knowing. I never really understood before the Buddhist notion that of 'dukkha', until now. This haze of 'dukkha' doesn't ruin the beauty, but rather just dulls it. My life has never been too much about suffering. The only suffering I experienced had a way out. It may not have always seemed easy to me, but there was an escape. This suffering I'm involved in now has no exit, other than perhaps death. I imagine I will learn to live with it, the way one learns to live with back pain. But I will never be the same. To transform the words of Martin Luther King, "I have been to the valley bottom. Mine eyes have seen the truth of hurt in the world."

And yet, my love for you remains so strong. I love you so much. And I love mommy so much. I was thinking today, it seems that no matter how we have fought it, we are to be together for life, as husband and wife. You helped us to discover that. We were watching the movie "Ghandi" today (by the way, even though you're not here, it still seems that we watch movies in several small sections) and when Ghandi's wife dies, I cried. I realize that one of us will have to be here at some point without the other, and if we grow to be old, there could be many years behind us- years of growing accustomed to being together. I realize that even in the less-than-six years with you, I became so used to being with you that my life before you came seems almost like a previous incarnation. I was going through some junk I've saved from years past a couple of weeks ago, and I noticed that I didn't care about much of it anymore. I even shredded many old drawings and letters. They seemed like bulk I didn't need to hang onto anymore, just relics from someone I used to be before I became your dad. When I became your dad, I think I was "born again" into that wonderful position. What a delightful new life it was. Not to be too romantic and pretend that everything was perfect. It is tempting, but I don't think it honors you, or us, to act like everything went from Hell to Heaven, and now back to Hell again. We all had our challenges for those 5 years and 11 months, but some thing were never in doubt- our deep and abiding love for each other, our respect for each other, and our knowing that we were "meant to be".

Mom and I ask each other often in our moments of despair, "What are we supposed to do now?" It really is like we died with you in so many ways. Our lives have been wrecked. Angela's life is so topsy-turvy. She and Jerry are destroyed, it seems. Demetri is without his brother and friend.. Danielle keeps her upper lip stiff and her heart has softened. She takes care of Raell beautifully, but probably at some cost to her own grief. She has her priorities straighter than I've ever seen her keep them.

We read all kinds of books on grief and death. I've shifted a little into religious and psychic material, with chunks of grief reading thrown in. We have so many questions. We so want to talk to you, to feel your presence clearly. We love you sweet boy.

Love,
Daddy