Yesterday should have been a time for hugs, smiles, picked wild flowers, hand-made cards, maybe even a nice home-cooked family dinner. Unfortunately for me, none of the above seemed to fit into my life’s predestined plan. My Mother’s Day was spent weeping over the absence of the one person who gave me the right to celebrate such an occasion, my son. I never imagined the intensity of the hurt that would consume me on such a day. I was reminded of all that I’ve lost. My sweet sons smile, his overall spirit and those beautiful blue eyes that could melt your heart. I was reminded that even though I’m still a mother, I’m stuck here without my child. I sat here with tear filled eyes and empty aching arms, watching other mothers celebrate a day that I thought would be always be a cause for celebration; while I silently broke inside.
Grief is like riding a nasty wave. One minute you’re up and feeling good with the wind against your face, and the next you’re drowning and don’t know how to make your way back to the surface. I strive for those good days, I like to think when I can feel the warmth of the sun against my skin that Tyler is wrapping his arms around me from heaven; letting me know its ok to feel, to smile and to live another day. When the bad days come it’s all I can do to remind myself that he no longer hurts, he’ll never see, feel or experience the cruelty of this world. It takes every ounce of my being to pull myself together and get out of bed. Losing a child is not something I believe you ever get over, or move on from. It’s something you learn to live with. You will never not feel the pain, you just learn to tuck it away into a safe place that others can’t touch.
I’m honestly afraid to continue on without my Tyler. I feel like my entire world has been ripped from my fingertips. I think about a time when I can see him again and spend all of eternity holding his little hand. Some days I find myself wishing he could tell me what its like in heaven and reassure me that he’s not afraid or scared, that he has no pain and that he’s watching over us all in the presence of those who have gone before us. I think about him talking with his great-grandparents, watching and learning from his cousins Wendy and Tyler who also left us too early in life, and waiting patiently beside them all for the rest of us to catch up. Of course, I love to imagine him playing with all of the other angel babies who left their parents down here feeling the exact same way I am. The parents who are walking among us, and living daily with the deepest pain a human being will ever know.
So, here I sit. Typing out my thoughts and feelings, wondering how to even begin to heal from this life altering loss. Wanting so badly to be a beacon of hope to others, but honestly having no idea how to deal with my own grief. Falling apart on days like today, which would have been Tyler’s 4 month “birthday” and yesterday, Mother’s Day. Always wondering what could have been … what SHOULD have been, but forever remaining grateful for the three beautiful weeks I had with my little man. As much hurt and anguish as his death has brought me and my husband, our families and our friends, I would do this all over again if it meant just one more minute with him. I pray that Tyler leads me back to where I belong and shows me the path I should walk to honor his life and our Lord. I pray that my anger and emptiness begin to slowly dissipate and I can once again pray, and know that God hears the wants and needs of my heart. I want nothing more than to carry Tyler’s name all over this world, in my heart and through my faith, to help myself and others – as we stumble blindly down this path God has led us on.
Happy 4 months, Bubba. Your mommy and daddy are always loving you.