Living with Loss

but the truth is I don't have much in me anymore.  Real truth is I wish I weren't here. God's honest truth is if I thought it would really solve anything I'd of probably offed myself by now.  Harsh words you think, not really.  This grieving, this loss, this pain grows more intense with each day.  Each day without my precious son, each day in this world without his smile, his laugh, his beauty, is one more day of agony.  I long to be shed of it, to be free to rest, to feel and not hurt, to laugh and not cry, to smile and not ache.  Some have told me the second year of this loss was the worst.  In the midst of the first year such thought was inconceivable.  Now, as I approach this second year without my son, I get it. I see it. I feel it.  The blinders of shock have been removed and the significance of it all is revealed; all we lost, all he lost, all that could have been and will never be. It's overwhelming, suffocating, impossible to comprehend, unacceptable and

The other day  friend shared a photo of his daughter and said, she was about to have his first grandchild, a boy.   He sent her the cradle that he made when she was young so the baby can sleep next to her.   He was so full of joy and exuberance over the pending birth. I too felt joy for him to become a grandfather and her as a new mother.   My thoughts went back in time to when I gave birth to my beautiful son, how my stepfather built him a cradle that we kept by the bed in our room.   We still have the cradle.   It was the cradle that sparked my pain.   Being a grandparent is a joy that we will never know and parenthood will not be known to our son. Parenthood with all it tribulations is by far the most magnificent experience.   There is nothing in my life that compares to being a mom.   When I look at Wyatt’s cradle,   I know my center is gone from this world, that my future stopped on January 1, 2010. My life took a different path from my plan and I had no choice.   Wyatt may be

You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering.   ~ Henri Frederic Amiel Elizabeth Edwards died today.  She lost her oldest son, Wade when he was 16.  She said she's not so afraid of death since his death .  I understand her words.  I'm not so afraid of death either, some days I long for death, so I can see my Wyatt.  Death is my passage to being with Wyatt again.  I long to see him, to sit and talk with him, to watch him grow, to be his mom, to see his future.  If death takes me to him then I am not afraid of death.  Resilience comes in how I am dealing with Wyatt's death. Resilience is knowing that I can get up each morning even though when I look in his room I know I will not see him.  Resilience is smiling at other's happiness even when my heart is broken. Resilience is sharing company with friends when I wish to cover my head and hide in darkness. Resilience is taking the time to speak and be cordial when rea