Living with Loss

When Wyatt was just about six weeks old we went to visit family.  On the way we stopped at my great uncle's house so he could see his great-great nephew.  My uncle, picked him up and held him in his arms, looked down at him and said, "He's a fine boy, a fine boy." There have been many days lately that I sorely miss having my big strappin' boy around the house. It is so evident to me now how helpful Wyatt was to those he loved and cared about. He did so much for me, for his dad, for Elizabeth, for his friends, for his memaw. His absence so pronounced when I have to figure out how to move something or use some new electronic device or my mom needs a chore done...things he always did and never fussed about.  I think sometimes that maybe I asked him to do too much, but then I realize I didn't; I was simply trying in the only way I knew how to raise a fine boy in a way that he would grow to become a good man. Wyatt was becoming that good man I knew he would be; h

I've been a bit melancholy lately, so many thoughts run through my head....I don't even put them into words, I don't know if I could put them into words of any comprehensible manner. They are so fast and vicious, they overcome me and I begin to act as if the people around me know what I'm thinking, as if I've expressed my inner thoughts to them...of course I've not uttered a word. I feel like jello...nice solid outside but the minute its stuck with anything you realize it's just mush. It's as if time has allowed me to realize and understand things that it wouldn't allow me to do before now. So many things that while in the midst of being at Shands I could not comprehend have been illuminated to me now. It hurts to know the things that I was sheltered from before...it hurts to know those things that a parent would never want to know. For example, I've realized now that the "skin" on Wyat's arms was not him, it was not him at all, it

We often ask why. Why did my child die; what did I do to cause this to happen?  I learned this rather early on in my grief journey, I asked myself why a hundred million times. What did I do in this life to deserve such a thing?  What did I do that was so bad as to endure the pain of loosing a child?  What did I do? Why me, why Wyatt, why us, why our family, why? It took a while, but I learned that I didn't do anything. It's not my fault, as much as I want to take the blame, it's not mine to own. Some of us want an answer to why and some of us will search for years for the why;  others, like myself, accept there is no why and I will never, in this life, know why.  I can simply accept the fact that it happened and there is no answer to why. Is that always easy....no, but I suppose it gets easier with time.  Time is not the ultimate healer, it does not heal this pain, there is no healing from this pain.  A friend said that time only gives us the ability to handle the pain,