It was just a pen. A black retractable Sharpie pen.

It's only a pen. A black retractable Sharpie pen. I found it on Labor day weekend when I went to visit El Paso in September. There was a pencil bag in the room I was staying and it had a few markers and that sharpie. The pencil bag was obviously Tony's, judging by the art work all over it. So I took the pen, he was in Maryland he wasn't gonna miss it.
This morning at church I was filling in the outline. Then I dropped the pen. When I bent down to pick it up I didn't see it. I looked around and couldn't find it. I got short of breath. I felt warmer and warmer. My eyes even started to tear up. Over a pen. A black retractable Sharpie pen. I know it seems silly to you, trust me it seems silly to me too. However I have so few things that were Tony's I felt like I was losing him all over again when I thought I lost that pen.
There are days, and weeks that go by and I seem like I'm OK. I even convince myself I'm doing better, and then something like that happens and the bottom falls out again. I can't help it and I know I shouldn't try to fight it. It's days like that that make it hard to function. Hard to see the positive in things. Hard to want to do anything. I'm not sure how to pull myself out of those moods on days like that. Usually something Brooke or Bryson does helps a bit.
There's these other things that happen that have been bugging me and seem to be happening more frequently. Sometimes when things get slow and I'm just sitting there thinking my mind will drift back to the day I found out. Or the day of his funeral. It's almost like I'm watching myself from someone else's point of view. I feel all the same pain I felt that day. I cry almost as hard as I cried that day. It's almost like in Harry Potter when he goes in the pensive. I see everything so clearly. I can even smell the sloppy Joe's. Or the flowers in the sanctuary. I feel the incredible overwhelming feeling I felt when I first walked into the sanctuary after all those years with Erika and my mom. I remember feeling the air being sucked from my lung and having to sit down and just cry. Those moments I think are the hardest. Those moments are the moments when I feel like I'm back at square one.
Then there's Leo. Leo Nicholas James. He looks so much like Tony. He's so beautiful. Part of me wants him to be Tony's because it would mean we still have a piece of my brother here on earth. However part of me wants him not to be Tony's son. If he's Tony's son there's more heartache on the horizon. There's more reminders of Tony. There's the biggest What if of all. What if he had known he was going to be a father??? Would he have found the strength to fight for his life?
Hopefully writing this will help me lower the number of times these flash backs happen in a week. Because they see to have been coming more and more. Thank you for reading, and I'm so sorry if it depresses you. That wasn't my intention at all. I guess my intention is to show people the pain that suicide causes a family. So that they can spread Tony's story and help other realize there are other options.