Tough Days...

It started this weekend. No matter how hard I try to push it from the front of my mind it keeps resurfacing there. Doesn't matter that the dates don't align up to the days, but the fact that each day leading up to finding out about his death still stands so clearly in my memory makes them just as important.

Out of the blue driving my son to school this morning the tears started flowing. There was no warning. No swelling in my eyes or lump in my throat or song/reminder to trigger it. It was weird. Then I remembered that 2 years ago driving my older son to the same school at that exact same time was the last time I am pretty sure I remember feeling hiccups as I was turning into the parking lot. Punch to the gut. Memories that I try my best to keep tucked away that escape without knowledge. Nothing but pain and a reminder that his day is only a short 48 hours away. 48 hours until balloons are released and acknowledgement/acceptance that my little one would be 2 years old. Longing and sadness instead of joy and happiness.  What I would do for a do over...

A few hours later after my workout I went to Target to finish up some shopping.  Hoping a little retail therapy would do the trick...wrong! There were a group of children from a local private school singing carols...i started crying. It was terrible. No matter how hard I try, this month will never be the same.

I have taken a different and probably unhealthy approach to things this year. I did not decorate his grave. I feel horrible guilt for that, but I want the thoughts of him to be in my household not at a cemetery this year. He is in every room.  A picture, an ornament, his stocking, his name...he is everywhere. Part of me wishes we would have had him cremated so that he could physically be here as well even if it is just his ashes.  At least it is some physical proof that he was more than what some days feels like a distant memory or a dream.

2 days away from 2 years. Trying my best to keep busy and keep moving. Hoping to out run the sadness and the grief that will always be one step ahead no matter how hard I try.

I think the events of the last week have made things a little harder. I found out last week that a friend's daughter's friend lost her baby. She was 40+ weeks and went in for her pre-induction appointment to find out her baby had passed.  I feel her pain. I remember her pain and it has been 2 years. It made me so angry when I heard. Add in Friday's tragedy in CT and I almost can return to that numb state I remember functioning in for a few days 2 years ago . Having 2 children sitting in an elementary school as I was watching everything unfold on Friday was torture. I couldn't wait for them to get off of the bus and I couldn't stop hugging them once i got home.

 I feel unexpected loss is the toughest way to lose someone because there is no time to prepare. No time to have things in place or to say what you want to say or do what you want to do.  As I watched pictures of these parents experiencing unexpected loss playing out live on my television set I couldn't help, but empathize with them. I know what it is like to know your child will never be coming home. That the next thing you do for them is to pick out a casket.

Although my loss is on a different spectrum than what these parents have experienced I know what it is like to just want your child back and at the same time to want to lay them to rest as soon as possible. I buried Logan on Dec. 23. Two freaking days before Christmas. As a parent with other children you have to attempt to deal with your grief, their grief and at the same time deal with Christmas. It was very hard and I am very thankful that my kids were young enough that they really didn't notice. But, at the same time I am afraid that it will never get back to what I picture is normal.  

The holiday months are always hard no matter when you lose someone you loved, but It seems so unnecessary and frustrating when children are directly involved. This month is meant for the kids and therefore it should be exempt from any type of sadness or loss. The magic that Christmas brings when we are children, and then we can only hope to pass on and share with our children. But, when your child is abruptly taken away so is that magic. The month becomes an anniversary more than a birthday or a holiday and that is what turns me into a frustrated, angry, emotional mess.

I hate this time of year.