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To something I hope to have a little more focus on.
http://unexpectedjoy.wordpress.com/
Enjoy and thanks for reading.
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Hey Bubba,
Well, you would have been 10 months old today. I miss you soo much. I haven’t written in awhile. The hurt is always here with me but the pain is farther away now. At this point I would have been chasing you around the house keeping you from getting into whatever your little hands could reach. I should be planning your first birthday and looking forward to your first Christmas with us. Instead…I am not much looking forward to Christmas at all. (Except of course to see the look on your big sisters face when the joys of the holidays show through.) Your big sister misses you very much. She told me this morning that she wishes she could have held you. I wish she could have too. I am not sure why we didn’t let her at the time everything happened so fast the day we met you to say good bye. I wish I could hold you again. My guess is that great grandma is holding you tight and giving you hugs and kisses from Mommy and Daddy and Big sister. She passed away this very day three years ago. November 12th, 2007. The 12th. You are going to be a big brother too! Mommy is due June 12th. 1 year and 6 months to the day since we said good bye to you. I will make sure your little brother or sister knows all about you. We all will.
I wish I could have known what you would have looked like at 10 months old. I look at other babies that were born around the same time you were and they are all so big! I can’t even picture it. I love you my son more then you will ever know. I miss you so much but I am so glad all you know is blissful peace and happiness. I wouldn’t be able to get by without knowing that you are more alive and happy than any of us will ever know in this lifetime
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Grief. The ever-changing wheels of time we are all subject to is like a kid being forced to get braces. You know it will push the past behind us and brighten our future but at the moment it sucks and at times can be humiliating. In real life it is hard to look forward to the perfect smile and the idea of viewing this torturous experience as just a blip in the radar when at the present moment your mouth is full of shiny metal and you want nothing more than to tear your own teeth out as a last-ditch effort to make the pain stop.
Grief in many ways is the same. You know the hardships in your life are there to shape you into the person God wants you to be, or in actuality knows you are, and that eventually this trial, like all others in your life, will be just a blip in the radar. (Although, I think most will agree when it comes to loss that “blip” is generally the size of Texas) Still, that doesn’t change the torture we endure when we lose something we love so deeply. It doesn’t change the feeling of agony in the never-ending present.
It sucks and in ways can be humiliating. You wear your grief like a name tag or a scarlet letter. For those that know about your loss, you have become more fragile.To them you are an eggshell that they mustn’t break. For those that don’t know, You pray they won’t find out and try your best to hide the scarlet letter because if they do, you will get the dreaded “look” and be forever deemed as “the one who lost their baby.”
Then of course there is the guilt of not having straight teeth perhaps? or is it not honoring the one(s) you lost or maybe it’s that you are not grieving in a way that is comfortable to everyone else? No, that’s not it because that would mean you still had the will to care- The guilt comes from wishing you cared but more importantly the guilt comes from not honoring your loved one. Making sure their life was more meaningful than to just effect you.
The difference between a child getting braces and grief is that eventually, you will just view it as a blip in the radar and eventually the pain will disappear. Blips the size of Texas…dont disappear.
My story goes something as such. Just as the present is never-ending, so is my grief of the loss of my son.
Without God, everything would be unbearable.
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Everyday is a constant struggle, sometimes big sometimes small; a struggle to get out of bed, a struggle to do anything, a struggle to be happy. Days that I actually reach that point it is a struggle not to notice people’s faces as I am sure they are wondering how long it will last. Why I just can’t be normal already. Or of course…the “I know she is hurting but I am not sure what to say or how to say it”, or better yet…”lets not talk about it because that would mean opening a can of worms that, lets face it, no one wants to deal with”.
MY SON IS NOT SOMETHING I WANT AVOIDED! HE IS A PERSON! HE HAS PURPOSE! WHEN PEOPLE THINK OF HIM I WANT THEM TO SMILE AT HIS MEMORY NOT BE SAD FOR ME OR MY FAMILY!
It’s been 7 months.
Normal does not exist in my world. I miss him. I miss me. I have no idea who I am anymore; I am struggling to find out. I am so far off from where I thought I would be at this point I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t have my normal escape. My computer is broken and I am stuck on the desk top with noise surrounding me. It has taken me far too long to write this much…much less remember the point I was trying to make. So I have pent-up so much emotion I have almost reached a point of numbness.
Today I want to scream. I want to cry and I want to go off.
People don’t understand why I don’t care about their stupid drama. No one understands me but here it is straight. I don’t care about the little dramas in life anymore. My son is gone and next to that…your issues with me or what I may or may not be doing right are laughable. I have 3 things that matter to me; my relationship with God. my relationship with my family and that my son’s memory is honored.
I know that probably sounds like I am feeling sorry for myself and being selfish and that may be the case but I don’t know how else to do life right now.
I am lost and clinging to God and my family are all I have got. It’s a struggle to even do that right.
OK I FEEL BETTER NOW THAT I GOT THAT OUT.
I guess the bottom line is please be patient with me. I am trying.
On another note:
I have been trying so hard to figure out what I want to do for his birthday. Something great. Something Happy. A memorial birthday party but who will come with a smile? A smile a long with tears I can handle. Without the smile?? It would be miserable.
Here is what I have so far:
Some sort of party
Letters to Donavin tied to a balloon (although I would love a copy of all of them) to be released. (Although, a part of me feels bad about the balloons and littering aspect)
Money that would have been used on birthday presents donated to brief encounters.
Maybe some sort of memorial bench somewhere.
Of course a fabulous birthday cake ; )
I don’t know. I just want it to be great. I am open to suggestions. 🙂
Addy says:
She told me the other day that angels were going to come pick her up and take her to heaven and she would have fire in her hands and baby brother would be human again and he would live with us and not be “died.” She misses him so much.
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I still struggle with the “How many children do you have?” question. I still have yet to find a perfect answer to that. I feel that if I go the safe route and say 1, I am not honoring my son or his memory. Generally, when I say 2 and they only see Addy, they ask where the other one is. Sure, I can say “oh he is in heaven.” But even with a smile on my face and the cheeriest voice ever, I still get “the look.” The look that says “I am so sorry, and now I am extremely uncomfortable and don’t know what to say.” Sometimes followed by awkward silence, sometimes by questions. Either way, generally people are just making small talk and don’t want to know that much information but how or why do I not include my son? He is still my son. I HAVE 2 KIDS but it’s not that simple.
Then….
These days are getting better. My dearest Donavin is still very much a part of my every day life. So much so that in a way I forget he is gone. It is not that I pretend he is here it has just gotten to the point that it is easy to talk about him. Talk about his things. Feel proud that he exists and that I had part in that. I love that but sometimes that can cause more harm because on those days if I find myself stopping to think about him, really think, it’s almost as if I lose him all over again. If it’s just a “Honey, can you hand me Donavin’s blanket?” It’s fine. It’s when it turns into a “Honey, can you hand me Donavin’s blanket…that he never got to use” where it is not. It’s a very fine line. Sometimes that hits me. Sometimes it doesn’t. It is strange to have someone be such a HUGE part of your life, someone you think of constantly, someone you talk about, someone you miss and LOVE SO MUCH, be someone who you don’t know. How can a someone who is and will always be (in this lifetime) a stranger, mean so much you would give practically anything to have them back. It is bizarre and endearing all at the same time.
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A mile seems much longer when you have an extra 40 lbs on your back and a slight rocky incline. The hike to release some of Donavin’s ashes was definitely a healing process. The hike itself almost seemed to symbolize the journey. Anticipation, looking forward to the beauty of it all. Resistance, the slight incline, the bumpy path…the burning in my legs. Fear, will I be able to get there? Will I be able to let go when I do? A heavy weight…Addy, but the weight of know I had to do something I was not wanting to do. It was hard, I was sweating, but I didn’t stop for long. Then we got to the falls. It was cool and refreshing, with a cloudy haze everywhere. We made it but there was still the daunting task we set out to do. Although, I think we both knew we had to do it. We never committed to do it. We brought Donavin along “just in case.” We decided we wanted to. He was supposed to be there with us. So he was. Surrounded by the beauty of God’s creations we tried to summon up the courage. The tears built up as I took in my surroundings. Slowly becoming more attached to that place then I had ever imagined. I would leave a part of my son there. It would forever be a part of me. Time was ticking away. Stupid time, always forcing us to move forward. We decided to get on the other side of the railing and stand next to this huge tree. The thought was that just Dustin and I would do it, last-minute we decided Addy should be a part of it. The ashes in my hand, I wanted nothing more than to tighten my grip. Never let go. Consume myself with the only physical being I had left of my dear Donavin. I cried. I prayed. I let go. I watched my son become one with the air, the water, the land surrounding us. We held each other and cried. It was time to return. The returning venture was a little easier. A little lighter. With one big hill at the end. The weight of what we had to do was gone, It was still hard to leave it behind.
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*Disclaimer: I am aware the my overuse of parenthesis in this post is probably annoying. Deal with it. : ) Thanks.
WOW. So you know how you have every intention of writing something for so long that you begin to think you did. THIS was one of those things. One of the most healing experiences so far. The birth of a beautiful baby girl.
A month and a half ago ( I know I am totally slacking) my dear…friend? (Friend doesn’t do her justice, how about the family you choose) gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Unfortunately, I missed the birth. I was called with plenty of time to get there but instead of following my instincts and going right then, I decided I had time to take a shower. I was wrong. I am still sorry about that one 😦 Just goes to prove, I am not the one in charge contrary to my desire to believe it. So we got there and there she was. Born in the same room, although it looks different, as my son. The birth tub was in the same place, although unused. In a way it felt like I was going back and stepping outside myself and looking at what could have been if that makes any sense at all. It took a few minutes to get used to. Their were plenty of mixed emotions. Then the light came. Not dwelling on my loss but embracing this beautiful gift of life that just entered the world. Loving her and her Mama so deeply. There were a bunch of people but for a few moments it felt like all was silent and warm. There was a moment of awe. Tears filled my eyes. (Which reminded me to grab my camera.) I went into “Help the Mama” mode. Doing whatever anyone would let me do to lend a hand. Cleaning, holding babies (for the first time but they were older), moving Mama and baby around. Then their came a time for me to hold her. This little perfect bundle of warmth that God created. I was scared. I was scared that I would be jealous. I was scared that I would have some sort of resentment. I was scared that she would make me think and miss my son more. I was wrong to be scared. This beautiful little girl didn’t bring any of those thoughts to my mind. She healed me of those fears. I was blissfully happy for her and her mama. I was happy and thankful to be a part of it, to be there at all. I was happy to hold the joy that God can create in my arms.
Thank you.
I think its possible because well with God all things are, that she knew Donavin.
She will always be his “sorta-twin.”
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My day to day 