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Friday, March 29, 2013

Things that are hard

After losing you, Luke, there are some things that normal people just don't have to think about..

Having to explain to your cousin Amanda (who's only 5) why I wear a necklace with your name on it around my neck and why I have a baby Luke Skywalker tattoo on my chest..."What does that mean?" 

That's hard to explain in 5-year-old vocabulary.

Having to word an obituary for your Grandmother...where we include her two living grandchildren and you, who she's meeting before us in heaven...

Realizing that you will meet your Grandmother, wherever you are, before you get to meet me and your Dad.  In a way I'm relieved--There's someone there to take care of you--that knew you in this world and that world. But I'm a bit jealous, too.

I hate thinking about how your Grandmother will never know any more of our children if we have them.  That's it.  She only knew you, and you're gone too.

...

Jeff's Mom passed away Tuesday, March 19 in her sleep.  She was 77 years old and not in the greatest of health, but there were no signs that she'd go so soon or so quickly.

No one's ever prepared for death, really.  The news...when I got it, hurt so much.  Here we go again, I thought. But Jeff's own MOTHER?  I can't say I know how he feels...but just thinking about losing my Mom...kills me inside.  She was my mother-in-law, and it still kills me inside.

We've had enough hurt these past six months.  Two bodies with no signs of life. Two trips to mortuaries. Two funeral services to arrange and attend. Two huge losses. 

And then there's the aftermath. Because the trauma and finality of death isn't enough to comprehend--The finality of losing someone you love beyond words turns into piles of paperwork and processes and forms to be filed.

I'm ready for things to just be better.  They have to get better, right? 

Sunday, March 10, 2013

On your 6 month birthday--without you

At 6 months, I think we've found a small sense of peace with everything that happened, Luke.

It still hurts that there really wasn't any legit medical reason we lost you. Part of that is easy to let go of, because it's so vague, but then part of it is incredibly hard to let go of because of the vagueness. It's a catch 22.

I've been told by many people that I'm doing really well, considering. I feel that I am too. It doesn't change the fact that I miss you like crazy and feel incredibly angry that I don't have a happy 6-month-old son to deal with. That I don't know what you would look like or be like at this age.

I wish you were here...

But I feel your presence more than you know. So much. There are tiny reminders here and there. And then there's the huge, bizarre coincidences when I feel like you're somehow still with us. Like what happened earlier this week. I picked up your big-doggie-sister, PJ from doggie daycamp at Petsmart. I got back her report card...and this is what it said.


PJ made a new doggie friend this week. His name was Luke Skywalker.

I didn't read that until we got back into the car, but it made me cry. Tears of joy and sadness at the same time. I don't know what I believe about the afterlife, and I don't pretend to have it all figured out, but there was a sense of your presence reading that note. There's been a few times these past 6 months where I truly feel that you're pulling strings from wherever you are and that gives me comfort.   

Today, Daddy ran in his first 5k ever.  He started running this year, and I'm so proud of him, because for the most part, he's doing this for you.

We're hanging in there, Luke.  It feels like these past 6 months have been a time warp that went both fast and slow at the same time.  But I feel like you've also made us be better versions of ourselves, too.  I wish it didn't take your absence to have done that...but if there's anything, there's that.

I wish you were here today, though. I really do.

It's hard to think that there will never be a day or a birthday that I don't wish that.  I hate that this is permanent.

I love you, sweet boy, till the end of time ♥♥♥    

Monday, March 4, 2013

I've listened to this song no less than 10,000 times...

And these words never meant as much to me as they do now that I've listened to it again, through different ears.

I looked up some people's lyric interpretations...and I was right. Apparently Ryan wrote this song for his friend who had had a stillborn daughter...

And that's why I feel like I could've written these very same words for you, Luke ♥♥♥



Elizabeth, You Were Born to Play That Part--Ryan Adams

For you I'd do anything
Tear myself in two
Just to hear you breathe

Calculate the changes that in time
Turn to nothing and then multiply
Yourself by my pain

Over you is where I stand
I wish I knew why
But I don't understand

I'm waiting on someone that just won't show
And every night it seems like there's no tomorrow
Not that you will ever know

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy now
I'm caught in a dream and I can't get out
I'm caught in a dream
I'm caught in an endless dream

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy now
I'm caught in a dream and I can't get out
I'm caught in an endless dream
And I'm not strong enough to let you go

And I've tried everything
But that
Elizabeth