One day at a time.... STILL!

The time draws down... the seconds tick away... and before I know it, that day will be upon us.  The day that changes nothing, but is a big deal.  Not the type of anniversary I would have imagined ever having... but here I am. Sitting. Waiting. Wondering what that day will be like.  Trying to figure out how to make it something more than it will surely be... something that is impactful and brings joy to his memory... Something that helps me forget the pain and remember the happiness he brought to my life every second I knew him.... to remember how his smile was beautiful and his laugh was contagious!  How his brother and sister adored him and how he was just starting to talk and he had a bit of a raspy, deep little baby voice.... I can't believe it's been a year since I last saw him.  I can't believe it's been a year since I held him and rocked him and nursed him.  I am still pissed that this has happened to us, to my baby!  There are times, when I look around at all the babies out there... all the moms and all the expectant mothers... and I feel like I drew the short end of the stick.  Statistics happen to other people, not me... I guess I didn't realize that when they say every six babies out of 1000 will die of SIDS that my children were included in those numbers.... I guess I always thought they were talking about other people's babies, not mine.   I'm a little numb still, a little in shock still, and still in disbelief... why did this happen?  Why... the dreaded question.  The one with no answer... but the lingering question that haunts me.  I will never know and as I have said before, even if I did know, it would never be a good enough reason for me.   One thing I do know... I approach the one year passing of our sweet Dex with some bittersweet feelings.... part of me is anxious because we will no longer be the newly bereaved parents... our 1 year is done and it feels like now people expect us to be old pros at this grief thing... almost as if society's permission to still be mourning our son is gone.  I feel as though I am waiting for someone to say "it's time..." and I don't know how I would handle that.  I don't know how to move into year 2... I'm not sure what to expect.   I should probably just stop and reflect on the ol' standby motto that is actually the best advice ever given.... 'Take it one day at time'  I need to allow the next couple weeks to run their course, to allow my grief to come to an ugly head... to scream, cry, get frustrated, get pissed, and to allow my son's presence to fill my spirit and in doing so remember his smile, his light and the beauty that he brought into our lives and see if I can reflect his light out to others.