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Hope

Wyatt would have been 23 this year. While his birthday has now passed, I can't help but feel multiple emotions about his death. I am trying, really trying, to not allow his death define my life; yet, as I breathe in those thoughts of gratefulness and thankfulness of being his mom, I breathe out the anger and resentment that I had to see my beautiful boy lay dead in a hospital bed and say goodbye to my only child. It's unacceptable to me, maybe even unfathomable.

Those first weeks and months after Wyatt's death, I told myself I would believe that he had gone on a long trip...Montana or Alaska or someplace he wanted to visit.  That following his visit he decided to live there and I would not see him for a very very long time. That he was in remote wilderness where he could not contact me nor I him.  He was just away. I know now that is probably not too uncommon for parents whose child dies, but I've also learned it is a useful coping mechanism that shepherds us through the dark haze of early grief. But the falseness of that belief has bubbled through what salve it may have previously brought and now the wound is festering with volatile emotions that seem to sting me at the most colloquial of things.

I've read a lot about grief.  Presently, I'm reading The Courage to Grieve by Judy Tatelbaum. Maybe it's too early to give judgement, but so far this book speaks to me.  It's not the story of a person's grief journey or the struggles of someone's pernicious life, it is about grieving and how the death of a loved one affects and impacts our being. I feel like she is describing me. That we often feel as if we can not take time to properly grieve and that we treat grief as if it were less powerful that is truly is. She gives three stages to grief: Shock, Suffering and Disorganization, and Aftershock and Re-organization. Just the categories make sense to me and I've not read it all yet.

I know I'm past the shock stage and probably still in the suffering and disorganization stage if I were to guess. But the thing is when you don't want to "re-organize" your life, it's a battle to take that step forward when all you want is to go back to that former life. I think I could re-organize this life if I had all the pieces of my former life.  Now, the future runs through my mind like prickly little events that one must suffer versus milestones to anticipate and enjoy. My future died on January 1, 2010...and I can't seem to make the present palatable enough to begin to re-organize the future. I will continue to hope that one day I'll want to live again and pray that just maybe one day hope will rise from the ashes of my life.

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