After the end

Last night I fell asleep to the sound of teenagers talking, laughing and giving each other shit. Aaaah, heaven!

Lawrence’s friends have been an enormous help to me in the days and months since he’s been gone. They text and stop by often, they take out the trash, they help clean the house, they make me laugh, they all call me mom and tell me they love me. But they had already been doing all of that when he was here. Tom Sawyer had nothing on Lawrence Morgan when it came to getting other people to do his chores.

Speaking of chores, over the last 5 months, I had not been able to bring myself to cook without having someone to cook for. For some reason, that was one of those things that seems small and insignificant, but the idea of cooking and not being able to feed Lawrence became an almost insurmountable challenge. Until I had the idea to host Friendsgiving. If I had a houseful of kids, I was sure I could feed them. That was what I did, that was normal.

Our house had always been the house that all the friends came to, hung out, ate and sometimes lived at when they needed a place to stay. Back then they called me Mama Dukes, or sometimes just Dukes. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, the definition straight from urban dictionary is: “Community or block mother kids in the area look up to or go to when their mother or parents are not around. An informal babysitter. Generally resides at the house most popular to the neighborhood. Often found to be giving advise and words of encouragement to the children on the block.” Now they just call me mom.

I invited them for Friendsgiving and they came, they ate, they stayed all day and they made me feel his presence so strongly. We played Uno and talked about Lawrence, sharing stories and cracking each other up. The ridiculous banter of teenage boys is something I will never tire of listening to, bruh….. dude, no cap.

I loved being able to cook and feed them. They loved eating.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve had kids over since he died, the first was on August 20th, and what should’ve been his 18th birthday. We hosted a celebration of life at our corner tavern, and then around 6 teenagers and a couple of my friends spent the night. I am happiest when I have a house full of people who I love.

But the next day, after everyone left, I was the saddest I’d been since around the time that it happened. After leaning into that feeling and trying to figure out why I was so sad, it hit me. When all the kids were here, it felt normal, just like it did when Lawrence was with us. Then having the house go completely silent was like losing him all over again. Since recognizing this trigger, I’ve learned to plan fun things for the day after an event like that, and it’s become a lot easier.

Many of his friends have come over to do art with me in the last few months. I have a wall full of canvas creations from Lawrence’s friends. I love to see their tributes to him. And the process of making art also soothes my soul, calms my mind and brings some happiness.

There were several years when Lawrence was younger, I volunteered at our local art festival in the kids tent, or as it is called “creation station”. I was able to watch the wonder, excitement and pride kids take in making things with their own two hands and creative minds. That energy feeds my soul like jet fuel.

With that memory in mind, and the recent experiences with Lawrence’s friends and art, an idea began to grow. Is there a way that I can do more of this? Could I make a living doing it? I talked to my friends who are moms of younger kids, and they thought it was a great idea! They would love to have someone (aka me) come to their homes, set up an art station, and spend an hour or two engaging with their kiddos, clean up and leave them with nothing but masterpieces to put on walls or refrigerators, and fun memories for their kids. While I’m there, they would be free to do whatever else they needed or wanted to do.

I offered this art experience on Facebook, calling it the “Little Humans Art Club”. Because, kids are obviously little humans, and since I am only 4’9″, I also fit into that group. I have a couple of dates already scheduled and I am so excited! This feels like what I’m supposed to be doing. Could this be my new purpose? At the very least, it will be fun!

A couple of friends asked if they could paint at Friendsgiving, I cleared out a spot, set up an easel, gave them supplies and let the go for it. In return I received a new portrait of my boy that I have hanging at the end of my hallway, so every time I walk down the hall, I can nod my head and say “sup, kid?” just like I used to. I absolutely adore it!

Another project we did yesterday was the “thankful tree” I had each guest write their name and what they were thankful for on a leaf and then glue it onto the tree. It sort of became a guest book of gratitude and turned out really pretty.

By the end of the day, at least 20 people had stopped by. All in all Friendsgiving was a roaring success. That doesn’t mean I didn’t cry in bed while trying to fall asleep listening to them talk. Did I cry when I woke up this morning and knew that while there are boys sleeping all over my house on my couches and in his bed, he wouldn’t be one of them? Yes, of course I did. I will always be sad, I will always miss my boy and I will always cry. But the joy of spending quality time with these great kids and feeling connected to Lawrence through them and their stories makes the tears just a bit sweeter.