I have been trying to write for a while. I had decided to do a photo page but the layout was not working. I threw in the towel and buried myself in our new computer system at work, cursing it all along the way. Now it’s the day before Mother’s Day, forty months and two days after seeing TJ alive for the last time.
I think of all the moms who have lost an only-child and that is when my heart truly breaks. I miss TJ something awful; and I look at his little brother and there are so so many times every day that he does or says something that is just like TJ. The little heart-reminders. TJ is here, his brother is here, he sisters are here. I don’t know what I’d do without them. These blessings, these reminders, the everyday love of my four other children and the little “hellos” from TJ- these are the things that see me through each moment of sadness.
But for mamas whose child has left her and now she has no child to hold, to kiss, to touch, to snuggle…I can’t imagine the brutality of THAT pain. This is not akin to the horrible platitude “at least you still have your other kids.” Because that is simply a ridiculous, misplaced, uncaring, and misunderstood idea. I suppose what I AM saying is that I am acutely aware of the blessing I have in my four other children, not only for who they are but for what they unwittingly give. I am choosing to see the blessings that remain instead of the sadness that remains.
Because both exist and always will. There is no choice in the matter. There is only the choice of what to do next, in this exact moment, and the next and the next. All us bereaved moms have the same choice- find the blessings that show up or live in sadness. I don’t know how I do it. Honestly, I am not always capable of overlooking the grief. That’s ok, though. It’s not about living in denial of sadness; it’s about living despite the sadness.
May 2015.
