August 20, 2013 30 weeks
Oh, my handsome boy,
Today I am angry.
7 months ago we brought you home.
In our hearts we believed we had time with you.
Time for memories. Time for favorite traditions, favorite foods, favorite movies, favorite games favorite places, favorite people.
We didn't get any of that.
We had two days.
One day where you felt okay, but slept a lot.
And one day where you slept nearly the entire day assisted by necessary oxygen and morphine.
No favorite foods. No favorite movies. No favorite traditions. No favorite games. No favorite places.
And then, you were gone.
Not until the eternities will we get to see your smile again.
Feel your hugs.
Hear your voice, your laugh.
Receive a picture you drew, or a note your wrote.
I cry all the time.
And I'm angry.
School starts in 2 days.
Your 8th grade year.
Back to school traditions.
It isn't fair.
It isn't okay.
I'm saying it out loud again.
Yes, I realize this is part of the grieving process. I think that's a step I skipped when the requirements of full time work resumed. It's pretty difficult to be an effective, loving first grade teacher when your whole being is filled with such soul shattering anger...
Within the walls of this anger phase, there is so much guilt, so much sadness, so many 'what if's, and so many unanswered questions.
I don't know why you had to leave so soon.
Why you had to leave at all...
And I don't know how to make it okay in my heart.
So for today, for right now, for this stage, I'm taking 5 to be angry. It may be 5 days. It may be 5 weeks.
And today, I'll watch that video of you singing happy birthday to me.
And I'll cry.
Love you forever.