This is what I wrote one year ago today.

It was titled, 2 Months Plus a Day.

2 months plus a day…

by Randy Friesen on May 26, 2010

Tonight I take you back to night one.   At some point we tried to sleep but sleep was not on our side that evening so I sat in my chair in the livingroom and looked out the window.  We live on a little rise and framed in our window was the lit cross at the Christian Life Assembly shimmering in the distance and one light on a hill above the church.

That lone glowing light from a far away home nestled above the glow of the far away cross provided some comfort on that first night.

With so many sympathy cards coming our way in the weeks that followed, I was surprised at how many were different.  There was one card however that came at least four or five times.  It’s a simple blue band on a white background with a rhinestone star.  There is just one simple statement, “one star in the night sky”.  After two months plus a day, that one star is shining ever brighter.  The glow is being duplicated in hearts and minds from young to old as we all strive to Be The Best.

That seems like a lifetime and a split second all at once.

I’ve been told the edge comes off the pain at some point.

It never goes away, but it gets better.

There are days when that seems very far away.

When 14 months plus a day sounds more like a sentence from a judge than anything else.

And yet, we must soldier on.

As Ryan Kesler said the other night…I’ll play on one leg, I don’t care. (yes, we can throw in Canucks references at any time…!)

And on these nights, we too will fight on, with one leg, a heavy heart or whatever.

Let’s go.

I have a thing for numbers.

Not like a thing where I’m some sort of math whiz…I just like numbers.

I think I get that from my Dad.

He’s always been one for memorizing lists, bible verses etc.

Do you know how many tunnels you go through on the Number 1 as you head from Hope through the Fraser Canyon?

Seven.

Do you know their names?

Yale, Saddle Rock, Sailor Bar, Alexandra, Hell’s Gate, Ferrabee and China Bar.

Yah…I got only the first four right.

Now…I’ll throw this in for my Dad…here’s a link to the tunnels online.  Who knew??

The 65 steps in the title refer to the 65 exposed aggregate round paving stones from the cemetery parking lot to the Dogwood wall, where then we find Dogwood #41 and remember Chris as the giant cedar trees stand as lookouts, silently breathing life into the atmosphere.  It’s a powerful place.

Why I counted those stones I don’t know…ask my Dad…it’s genetic.

Anyways, 65 is the year I was born and I realized when I was there this weekend that this year I will be 46 and next Jan Chris would have been 19…making the only time our ages would add up to 65.

When I walk on those stones I remember him with every step.

The sun was out today.  Beautiful.

The Canucks win 7-3 in game 2 of the conference final.  Beautiful.

We take in the Whitecaps game during a warm Spring evening at Empire Field.  Beautiful.

The constant knowledge of Chris not being here to take these experiences in.  Not so beautiful.

Take the Canucks for example.

I was actually ok with them losing last year.  Know why?

I didn’t want to experience that victory without Max AND Chris.

This year I want them to win the Cup more than ever…sort of.

For everything good that happens, it is only natural to want to share that with your loved one.

It’s as hard today as it was a year ago…or maybe harder.

It was a beautiful day.

It was a hard day.

But…I’ll wave my towel.

I’ll scream at the TV.

I’ll wear my jersey.

And I’ll think of Chris and Luc Bourdon cheering from their box seats on high.

THAT is beautiful.

It’s just a simple brass plate.

But it’s beautiful.

Chris’ name plate arrived late last week.

We saw it for the first time on Sunday afternoon.

It’s just a simple brass plate.

But it means so very much.