Here we go again…

Here we go again… gearing up to survive another anniversary of our sons passing.  Another February to walk through the stores and see all the hearts and pink and mushy love junk.  I actually find myself trying to avoid looking at it.  I will walk out of my way to miss it, however, in most stores it's front and center… cuz this holiday is a big deal I guess, but it makes me hurt.  For Nathan and I, this holiday will never be about our love for each other, but will always be about our love for our sweet Declan.  It will always be about how we can honor his memory and the memory of that dreadful day.  It will be about saying Thank You to so many people…. it will be about remembering the selfless act of our daycare provider, the St. Peter police officers, the doctors and nurses at Rivers Edge hospital, the helicopter flight crew, and the staff at Children's hospital.   It will forever be about what I can do for someone else… how I can show my gratitude for those who FOUGHT for my sons life!  I think of the people, from our daycare provider to the doctor who pronounced his death… each one of those people looked at our son and decided he was worth giving it their all.  This might sound crazy, but I look at those people… and I feel so lucky that they were on duty that day.  I feel almost in awe of their will to fight, when I am sure it often seemed hopeless.  I think of our daycare provider and her quick actions, giving Declan CPR… I don't know how she found it in her to do it and than to go through the police investigation, when I am sure all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry.   "Lucky"… not the word I would have thought I'd describe myself as in reference to that dreaded day, but it's true.  That is how I feel.  We had the best people on our team and we still didn't win, but the game was fought hard and the loss was felt by everyone!

My heart is still heavy and I'm still very broken… the past two years have been difficult, a living hell to be specific.  I am still finding myself learning about my grief.  I still lose  my breath thinking about our beloved boy.  I still want to punch the wall at times and shout obscenities at the time of my lungs.  Two years has done little to change my sadness, but I have learned how to 'control' it and frankly, avoid it when it's not the right time.  I can say that he doesn't fill my every thought anymore, but there is not a day that he doesn't enter my thoughts at some point.   I don't cry everyday anymore, but there is no telling what will send me into hysterics and uncontrollable sobs.  At times I feel like I am a shell of who I was…not the confident, out going, almost fearless, YOUNG lady I was.  Now there are a lot of days I feel OLD, with the weight of responsibility laying heavily on my shoulders.   I live with a level of anxiety I have never experienced. I struggle when life gets difficult with putting things into perspective and not freaking out. What I can confidentially say is that I have more purpose in this life now.  I have a better understanding of how important the 'little' things are.  I am more empathetic and kinder than I used to be and I am able to love deeper than before.  I can't imagine going back to who I use to be…  I am different and I am learning what it means to be the 'new' me.  It's a challenge, but it's not going to break me!  As we approach the dreaded day… I am going to let my heart feel what it wants.  I am not going to hide any tears, I am not going to apologize for not living up to any expectations,  I am going to go with the flow and be OK with it.