Adam: three years on

To my talented, imaginative, confident, loving, thoughtful, selfless, musical, open-minded, comical, curious, fearless, ambitious, enthusiastic, calm, impactful, beautiful boy, I miss you, and

I still look for you in every room. Any sign that you've been around I grab and cling onto, for a slither of comfort, for an indicator that your spirit is in fact around and that you truly will never be 'gone'.

Three years ago, my beloved Adam passed away. It feels unreal, typing that. How has it been three, whole years? That's over 1,000 days since you left us, since I had to learn how to navigate life without someone who gave me so much guidance, and grounding. You were a beautiful soundboard, someone who listened intentionally, and cared abundantly. You gave me encouragement whenever I felt discouraged and made me feel strong and capable when I was convinced I was weak. Failing that, you made me feel courageous just by being in your proximity - you were and are still such an inspiration to me, you remind me to be brave every single day, even when you're not psychically here anymore. I endeavour to always do something brave, in your name, and today that will be making a big decision in my career. I trust that you're looking down on me right now, armed with your words of wisdom and gentle demeanour, telling me that I can, in fact, do it. Thank you for being by my side, even if I can't see you anymore, I know you're there.

Something I often discuss with friends, family, is how experiencing the loss of someone so close in age to you, is vastly different to any kind of loss I had experienced before. It is still, three years on, unfathomable. You should still be here. You should still be making your silly jokes, singing the stupid songs that we'd make up and generally being the goofy person you were. I miss the lightness you brought to life, you had this ability to make everyone feel joyful, and free of anything that was weighing them down. Optimism, blind faith, whatever you want to call it. It was admirable, and it's something I try to instil.

I guess as usual, I don't really know where I'm going with this post. I guess it's just also, the usual, my musings on grief and how as time goes on, nothing much changes. Maybe it gets "easier", or maybe you just get more used to living life without the person you never expected to lose.

At the six month mark, I wrote the below and featured it in a post I wrote at the one year mark. Three years on, it's still as relevant as ever, so I wanted to share it here too.

"I know people always say that when others pass away, that they were “the best” and life only takes the good ones, and usually it sounds slightly empty, redundant, repetitive, because how many people can truly be, “the best”. But then I had the pleasure of knowing you, and losing you, and it was with that that I realised that they were in fact right. The good ones are taken far too soon. But I’d have to fight them over the title for “the best”, because I know with every part of my being and I will know this for forever more, that that title belongs to you."

Reader,

hug the people you care about. Tell people that you love them. Don't waste another minute of this precious, precious life, with people who are so, so precious. Live each day with no regrets and simply, Be More Adam. We could all learn so much from him.

All my love Adam, and to anyone else who needs it, or doesn't Because we could all just do with more love in our lives. It is not limited.

Tam