3 years today.
3 years without my beautiful boy.
i haven't written in almost a year.
i don't know.
i'm feeling most of the same things.
i feel everything.
sometimes i feel nothing.
i try to feel nothing.
i try to pretend i'm fine until it builds and builds and i can't contain it...and then i feel everything....all at once.
today i'm feeling it all.
today i'm sad and i'm broken and i just miss my son.
i miss him all the time.
there is an ache inside of me that will never go away.
losing a child is not something you get over.
i will never "get over it".
the only thing i can do is go on with it.
i go on because it's the only thing i can do.
i go on with the grief and the love and the tender ache that will always be in my heart.
i go on because i can't go back.
i go on because...what else can i do?
i go on because she needs me and because i love her with the same fierceness i loved him with.
i love them; so i go on.
i go on but i feel broken inside.
like a million shattered pieces that i can't possibly begin to put back together.
instead, i place them in a box.
i place the shattered pieces in the box and close the lid.
i wrap the box up tightly.
on the outside the box looks neat and put together.
the corners are crisp and perfect and you would never know of the mess that lives inside.
you would never know that the pieces continue to shatter and break, with even the slightest bit of movement.
opening the box seems more dangerous every time.
there are so many pieces, so many ways to get hurt.
so i keep the box shut.
i carry it with me, fully aware that the contents are getting more mixed up and broken with each step. some days i walk carefully, mindful of the fragile pieces inside. other days i run like hell, even though i'm aware of the damage that's happening within.
today i open the box.
i miss him so much.
i remember the last moments i had with him; they were beautiful.
he was beautiful.
his whole life was nothing but beauty.
oh my heart, did he struggle.
he suffered more in his short time here on earth than any little boy should ever have to.
but there was always this beautiful light around him. when i held him in my arms, i felt it and i know he felt it too.
the day he died, the day i held him and watched him take his final breath right there in my arms, there was so much light and love in the room that it was too overwhelming for words.
his death was peaceful and his life was beautiful.
so what am i supposed to do now?
what is a mother supposed to do when her life's true soulmate is gone?
what do i do when it hurts too much and i just want him back?
i honestly don't know.
i have this box.
the pieces are broken but they're still beautiful.
his life was a blessing and it's my duty to honor it, to always honor him.
i will sort through the pieces, i will.
just maybe not today.