Saturday, April 23, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Nat: No, I don’t think it does. Not for me, it hasn’t -- has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though.
Nat: I don’t know… the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and… carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you… you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and -- there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful -- not all the time. It’s kinda… not that you’d like it exactly, but it’s what you’ve got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And uh… it doesn’t go away. Which is…
Becca: Which is what?
Nat: Fine, actually
I suppose that somehow I am getting closer to the place where I too have a brick I carry around in my pocket. Like it or not, it's what I have. And it's fine actually. Where am I in my grief? I guess it really depends on the day, the amount of sleep I have had, the music I have heard, the number of babies I have ran across, the number of pregnant women I have seen, the number of tv shows with ultrasounds I have watched or if it's a day ending in Y.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
I find it very interesting the explanations we come up with for things like death and all that surrounds it for our children.
Murray was 3 we lost Cayden. It was a very difficult thing to explain to him. We were well aware, from all the reading we did, not to tell him that his brother was sleeping, or had gong to sleep for fear that he would never want to go to sleep again. But it was so difficult to explain to this sweet child that his brother would not be coming back, where he was (in Heaven, above the clouds with God), what the memorial service we had for him was (a way for the people who loved him to remember him and celebrate the fact that he did lived and we will always love him), and the most difficult question of why it had happened (we will NEVER have an answer for this one, and we know this in our heads, but our hearts continually search for a reason why as if we too were 4 years old and think that if we just ask the right person in the right way we will get that ever elusive answer). We wanted to badly to soft pedal and make it easier on him during those moments but we also didn't want to give him false hopes or scare him. He asked so many times if we could take a helicopter or plane ride to heaven and see Cayden, and also if God couldn't just let him come back for a visit with us. His early experience with death has lead to endless questions about cemetaries and cremations. My son doesn't hesitate to talk to anyone about his brother, where he is and his feelings about it. I'm sure he has thrown people completely off their game plan when this comes up, but I hope that more often than not he will brush up against people who will let him talk and use his innocent wisdom as a learning/teaching moment.
He also desperately, almost as desperately as I, wants a baby that we get to bring home. "One that doesn't have to go live with God". He knows that I am trying to get healthy. In his innocence he doesn't see that his mama is too fat to get pregnant safely. I have only told him that I need to get healthy so that we can try to get another baby in my tummy. And he in all his wonderfulness tries to support me and help me. I told him we were not going to eat fast food anymore, because it is not healthy for me, and I am really going to try to do this. So today we were in the drive through getting a drink, no food I promise, and he asks me "hey Mama, isn't this a drive thru??". No judgement, just support. Oh if I could only bottle up his support and take it in my moments of weakness.........there is nothing I couldn't achieve.