Tuesday, July 16, 2013

All over the place....

     We are in the last four weeks of our summer break. I did not make my fitness goals. Partly because of my ankle injury and the depression that followed that. I am still trying to pull myself out of that. I never stopped working out though. I never stopped taking my boys to do things they love doing in the summer. But by this time I just feel so drained.

     In fact as I was driving to boot camp this morning Matthew West's song Save A Place for Me came on the radio and I began crying. Hard. As I pulled up to the park my friend came up to my car and I was still trying to stop crying. She asked me what is wrong and I just miss him so much.

     I have met many people since Sterling died. Other grieving parents. Some who told me from day one that I will never be happy again. I will never be ok again. They told me my life is over now. I still have the bubbas to raise and love and I knew I couldn't live like that. I wouldn't live like that. But that doesn't mean I don't miss my baby. I MISS him every single day. I think of him every single day. But I feel him all around me. I know he has never left me. I know I will see him again. But I miss him here the way his bubbas are. And sometimes the tears just come. And that's ok.

     I did do boot camp. And I bet no one there even realized I was having a bad morning. I am not sure that is a good thing. I'm not sure its a bad thing either. I have no idea how to feel when so many people think I am so strong and have it so together. Inside I still feel a mess. A beautiful, grieving mess. I am still trying to figure out where I belong.

     I am still trying to figure out what I should be doing with my life. How I can honor my son's short life. How I can raise his bubbas to be kind, loving, compassionate young men. I still feel so confused and such a mess so often. I don't feel like I belong in this world. Yet I value life so much more now. I just wish I could go to a beach somewhere and relax and meditate.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Overheard

     We had a nice holiday weekend with friends and me just enjoying the bubbas. We met some new people and inevitably the comment is made about how "full" my hands must be with 4 kids. If that is all that is said I usually respond with "wouldn't have it any other way" and go about my day. But when I am sitting with people they ask questions and dig a little deeper and I can't not include Sterling (or my oldest daughter) when responding. Which brings us to his death.

     I will always tell people about CHD's because I want people to know that it could happen to anyone. I see their looks of "not me" and their nodding at me out of pity. If I talk to a person a lot about Sterling I will always ask if they want to see him. I so love showing off his giant, love filled brown eyes and his contagious smile. Most people see him and then something changes as they see that Sterling looked perfect, healthy even. They begin to kind of see that yes, it could happen to them.

     I was not prepared for what I heard someone say though. She said she just couldn't look at his picture because he's dead now. Why would she want to "look at a dead kid's picture?"  That stung. She is not a friend. I will probably never see her again. And I am sure it is hard for those around me to look at Sterling's beautiful face knowing he is no longer in his body.

     But if it hurts you or is hard for you to look at Sterling's beautiful pictures and videos, what do you think I live with every single day??  I knew and loved him as only a mother could. From the depths of my very being. I woke up each day to his big brown eyes and his smile. I loved taking care of him and watching him grow. I loved every moment I had with him. As did his Grammy and his sissy and his bubbas. Sterling was (and forever will be) a much loved and adored baby boy. His absence has left a hole in each one of us.

     Part of our healing is sharing him with others. We are so proud of him. We love him. He will continue to teach us things we never dreamed we would know. He will continue to bring out the best in us. We share him with all of you from a place of love. We only ask that you be compassionate in return. No matter how hard it is for any one of you to see him and know you will never get to meet him in the traditional way, always think of us, his family. We love him and knew him and miss him more than words will ever capture.

     Our hearts have been shattered and we wake up each day and live. Bravely we share our story with you. We share to help other families and we share because in doing so, we heal our hearts. Always think of the grieving and be mindful of what you say to us or about us when you think we don't hear you. For our hearts are already broken and our soul so tender.