When we learned that Kaleb would not be with us long, in my head, I went through a list of things that he would never get to do – of milestones he would never reach. It was heartbreaking to learn that he would never crawl, walk or talk and I accepted that I would never hear him call me mommy or say I love you; it was ok because he was here and I could hold him in my arms. Throughout this past week I have watched mom’s with their children shopping for school supplies and clothes with an incredible ache in my heart knowing that soon, school will start and it will start without Kaleb. His teacher and the other kids that are in the classroom he should have been in will not even know he’s missing; only I will.
Tomorrow morning, Kaleb and I should be walking to his first day of kindergarten. I pictured us hand in hand walking into his classroom where he would make new friends, and I would turn around and leave with tears in my eyes just as I did on Christopher’s first day. Instead, I will watch all the teary eyed moms walk their “baby’s” to their first day of school and I will visit the cemetery.
People remind me of my strength on a daily basis, they have since diagnosis. Telling me how strong I am, I don’t feel strong – I don’t WANT to be strong, I did not ask for this yet here I am right in the middle of something so painful there aren’t any words to describe it. I keep hearing my pain will ease, it will get easier, but it hasn’t…life goes on and things do change, my grief hasn’t gotten any “better”, it’s now just different. Grief is not a job that I can just quit because I don’t like it; it’s not a relationship that I can leave because it doesn’t make me happy anymore. Grief isn’t something you go through, it something you live, EVERY day. Some days are easier than others. It’s been described as “ugly shoes” and waves of the ocean, knocking you down unexpectedly. Those two things are definitely true. For me, it’s a coat that I carry with me every day, I can take it off for a little while and look “normal” but the minute someone asks about my children I have to put it back on, and it’s hot and so very heavy. I still think about Kaleb every day and that will never change. He will be with me always, not in the way I had expected, and that is why grief will always be a part of my life.
So tomorrow, I will wear my coat and I will even put a smile on my face as I walk through the storm and the painful realization that this will not be the last of the “first’s” that we will go through without him.
Tomorrow morning, Kaleb and I should be walking to his first day of kindergarten. I pictured us hand in hand walking into his classroom where he would make new friends, and I would turn around and leave with tears in my eyes just as I did on Christopher’s first day. Instead, I will watch all the teary eyed moms walk their “baby’s” to their first day of school and I will visit the cemetery.
People remind me of my strength on a daily basis, they have since diagnosis. Telling me how strong I am, I don’t feel strong – I don’t WANT to be strong, I did not ask for this yet here I am right in the middle of something so painful there aren’t any words to describe it. I keep hearing my pain will ease, it will get easier, but it hasn’t…life goes on and things do change, my grief hasn’t gotten any “better”, it’s now just different. Grief is not a job that I can just quit because I don’t like it; it’s not a relationship that I can leave because it doesn’t make me happy anymore. Grief isn’t something you go through, it something you live, EVERY day. Some days are easier than others. It’s been described as “ugly shoes” and waves of the ocean, knocking you down unexpectedly. Those two things are definitely true. For me, it’s a coat that I carry with me every day, I can take it off for a little while and look “normal” but the minute someone asks about my children I have to put it back on, and it’s hot and so very heavy. I still think about Kaleb every day and that will never change. He will be with me always, not in the way I had expected, and that is why grief will always be a part of my life.
So tomorrow, I will wear my coat and I will even put a smile on my face as I walk through the storm and the painful realization that this will not be the last of the “first’s” that we will go through without him.
RSS Feed