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It's all about me...

I just looked at some photos of Wyatt that are hanging on our living room wall and gave an exasperated sigh.  It was not a grieving sigh, it was pure irritation with it all...fatigue, sorrow, resentment, anger, frustration and disgust all rolled into one big sigh.  Why him?  Why me? This death makes me question all the choices I made in life.  Why did I marry the person I did, would it have been different if I didn't marry or married someone else?  Why did I choose the career I did?  Why didn't I stay at home with my child like my heart told me I should?  Why did I waste so many years doing things for others and not for my child? Why do I continue to be this person I'm so angry with? Who would I be now if I'd followed my heart instead of being responsible?  Would my life be more filled with sorrow or less?

I can't help but continue to ask myself the question, why my son, why our family, why me.  There are many others out there who were/are careless, cruel, hateful, evil, repugnant, obstinate, rotten, sleazy people who bring disaster in their wake and they are still here; they are living and breathing, spending time with family and friends...why is my son gone and they are still here?  (yes, I know that is a horrible thought, but the mind has a way of going places. It's not that I wish them dead because they're not so nice, but where is the order and justice in it?) I wanted to watch him grow, see his family, watch my lineage continue. It's just pure selfishness at this point...it's all about me, and frankly, that's ok.

I want my child.
I want grandchildren.
I want to watch my son struggle and grow through life.
I want to be his mentor.
I want him to be with me when I grow old.
I want him to hold my hand when I die.
I want his children to love me.
I want the life I cherished.

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