I sit here, in bed, on the eve of the month I hate the most: March. Why? Its the month death stole my precious son!
It's amazing how our emotions can change based on something so simply as a day. Think about when you were a child and you counted down the days until your birthday. The excitement of knowing you would have presents and cake; knowing the day was to be all about you. And don't even get me started on Christmas.
When your expecting a child, the milestone days of first heartbeat or the first ultrasound. Even the thrill you feel when your about to announce it loved ones. Sometimes I could hardly contain myself and would just blurt it out too quickly. I am sure some of you have done the same thing too.
After you children come along, you can't wait to see their faces on special days. Can't wait for it. The point is, our feelings get tied up in days and usually it is the happiness of a good day. But I never imagined dreading not only a day, but an entire month.
Harrison died March 30, 2014. I HATE that day. I HATE March 30 forever. The second worst day is March 31, 2014. For it is the first day in my life I spent a whole day with my son dead forever. Its harsh to read those few sentences, right? Hard for me. So understandable why I would hate those two days; why I would dread those days. But why the whole month?
Because I feel I was cheated out of time not spent with Harrison during the month of March. But also, some of the best memories with Harrison during the month of March. It brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart when I think of the things I remember during those last few weeks with him and his siblings. And even more joy when I remember our special time alone, which is a rarity in a house with 4 kids.
As beautiful as my good memories of March 2014 are, they are not enough to override the torturous memory of seeing my son on March 30, 2014. So tonight, an hour from the worst month of the year, I am full of anxiety, anger, confusion, numbness, sadness, emptiness, loneliness, pain...
I am a mother without her child and it's just wrong. And the entire month of March reminds me of this more than any other time of the year EXCEPT for November 13.
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Saturday, February 25, 2017
All Who Left
For me, there is this weird connection between Harrison's death and the end of other relationships at the same time. It was like many things I cared about came to an end. One I cannot get back; the other I cannot get back either.
Harrison is gone. I know that. I am reminded of this every aching moment of my life. There is not a single instant that goes by. Even when I am happy, I think "He'd love this."
We recently acquired two new English bulldogs. See the summer before Harrison died, I bought my boys an English bulldog, Cayenne. It was theirs to keep up with, but all of ours to love. And boy did he! Everyone did. And then Harrison died. It still boggles my mind how my son died before the dog. Shannon, Harrison's older brother, took up the slack. And now the dog will be 4 this summer. He is a great dog. Does well around others (although those who know him are aware he gets a bit personal). Does great with little ones. Cayenne is just great!
So I broke down....actually the kids broke me down....and bought 2 English bulldog puppies. I know, lots of work Cayenne is doing fabulous with them. The kids are quite joyful to have them. I mean, who couldn't smile and all too much fur puppies really. Cumin and Basil are their given names. Yes, spices...don't ask.
Harrison is gone. I know that. I am reminded of this every aching moment of my life. There is not a single instant that goes by. Even when I am happy, I think "He'd love this."
We recently acquired two new English bulldogs. See the summer before Harrison died, I bought my boys an English bulldog, Cayenne. It was theirs to keep up with, but all of ours to love. And boy did he! Everyone did. And then Harrison died. It still boggles my mind how my son died before the dog. Shannon, Harrison's older brother, took up the slack. And now the dog will be 4 this summer. He is a great dog. Does well around others (although those who know him are aware he gets a bit personal). Does great with little ones. Cayenne is just great!
So I broke down....actually the kids broke me down....and bought 2 English bulldog puppies. I know, lots of work Cayenne is doing fabulous with them. The kids are quite joyful to have them. I mean, who couldn't smile and all too much fur puppies really. Cumin and Basil are their given names. Yes, spices...don't ask.
But it should all be happy times. But all I can think of is who is missing: Harrison! He would have loved this. He would have been holding them all the time.
And it leads me to others important people who left me at my lowest time of my life. Yes, people do that. And I realized I cry for missing everyone...all of them. Those who are gone and won't ever come back. And I don't want back those who it was so easy to walk away from me at that time. I don't know why. But there is this thought if they made me happy before Harrison left, maybe they could after. I know it is wrong. And I know it is not true. But my heart is begging my brain to please TRY ANYTHING to fix it!! ANYTHING!! I can't explain it. Help me.
But I do want back my son. He would want to be back. To comfort me, remind me what's important, and who's not. And give me that hug I so incredible need right now.
I love the puppies........
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Emotions Like A Channel Flipper
No one said it would be easy. And I knew they were right. But most were just saying it to say something to me because of the awkward moment of the conversation, right? It's the moment when all is silent when they found out my son died. And then it is a mountain of questions, comments and what they feel are good wishes.
"How did he die, if you don't mind me asking?" "Did you see him?" "Know he is with God." "You know you will see him again." "Every day you get better and better; you will see." "So does this mean you only have 3 kids then?" "I don't even know what to say." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "And you didn't know he had a heart problem?" "You didn't catch it?" "Well, at least you luck because he died and you know where he is. Not like a parent who's kid is kidnapped and you don't know were the kid is!" "I completely understand. My cousin died before." "I can relate; my father just died."
I don't mind people asking me how. No, we did not know he had a bad heart as there was no way of knowing. I do not get better and better every day. And maybe he is with God, but I am pretty sure the best place is to be here with us...those who absolutely love and adore him like no other. NO I don't have 3 kids, I have 4 and always will. No, my son not kidnapped and I count my blessings because it looks like he died peacefully. I know where to find my silver linings in such a horrible situation. And no, my son dying is NOTHING like your cousin, nephew, father, mother, grandparent, niece, or any other person.
Losing your child is a unique loss all together. I made him, he grew inside of me for 9 months. I was his everything. I raised him, cared for him, taught him. My goodness I am so in love with him. No, its not the same as losing anyone else. And you can't convince me otherwise.
As a matter of fact, no two people who walk this journey have the same journey. It is different for every single one of us. We are all lost, hurting like no other. But yet all the same.
My emotions lately have been changing and all over the place. It reminds me of flipping through channels on the tv. One moment I happy, the angry he's gone, then completely numb, then just a flood of tears which burn my so dried out eyes.
I am walking this journey alone. I am alone. I am strong, but my kryptonite is the death of one of my beautiful babies. And it's killing slowly.
"How did he die, if you don't mind me asking?" "Did you see him?" "Know he is with God." "You know you will see him again." "Every day you get better and better; you will see." "So does this mean you only have 3 kids then?" "I don't even know what to say." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "And you didn't know he had a heart problem?" "You didn't catch it?" "Well, at least you luck because he died and you know where he is. Not like a parent who's kid is kidnapped and you don't know were the kid is!" "I completely understand. My cousin died before." "I can relate; my father just died."
I don't mind people asking me how. No, we did not know he had a bad heart as there was no way of knowing. I do not get better and better every day. And maybe he is with God, but I am pretty sure the best place is to be here with us...those who absolutely love and adore him like no other. NO I don't have 3 kids, I have 4 and always will. No, my son not kidnapped and I count my blessings because it looks like he died peacefully. I know where to find my silver linings in such a horrible situation. And no, my son dying is NOTHING like your cousin, nephew, father, mother, grandparent, niece, or any other person.
Losing your child is a unique loss all together. I made him, he grew inside of me for 9 months. I was his everything. I raised him, cared for him, taught him. My goodness I am so in love with him. No, its not the same as losing anyone else. And you can't convince me otherwise.
As a matter of fact, no two people who walk this journey have the same journey. It is different for every single one of us. We are all lost, hurting like no other. But yet all the same.
My emotions lately have been changing and all over the place. It reminds me of flipping through channels on the tv. One moment I happy, the angry he's gone, then completely numb, then just a flood of tears which burn my so dried out eyes.
I am walking this journey alone. I am alone. I am strong, but my kryptonite is the death of one of my beautiful babies. And it's killing slowly.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Alone Time
Being a mother of 4, there is rarely time alone with one child. Yes, there are some moments such as doctor appointments or occasional trip for shoes. But true quality alone time...rare for us.
I love the way my kids crave alone time with me. My heart smiles when they finally get some time and talk my ear off. Of course, the boys got less time as they became older.
Right now I am realizing all the alone time I should have been sharing with Harrison in the last few months. I feel the pain of missing out. It feels unfair. Out of the four, he was the least demanding of my time, knowing the others needed me more. He craved time with me as well, but was not selfish with my time. But was this supposed to be when it all was made up to him? All that missed time returned to us?
I feel him here with me all the time. I believe in angels and spirits. I know I'm alone with him right now. That this is our time and the only alone time I will have with him. I wish I could hear him talk my ear off, complain about something, teach me some military fact...anything! I need only a couple of moments alone with him...
Treasure those alone moments. Make the time for those moments.
I love the way my kids crave alone time with me. My heart smiles when they finally get some time and talk my ear off. Of course, the boys got less time as they became older.
Right now I am realizing all the alone time I should have been sharing with Harrison in the last few months. I feel the pain of missing out. It feels unfair. Out of the four, he was the least demanding of my time, knowing the others needed me more. He craved time with me as well, but was not selfish with my time. But was this supposed to be when it all was made up to him? All that missed time returned to us?
I feel him here with me all the time. I believe in angels and spirits. I know I'm alone with him right now. That this is our time and the only alone time I will have with him. I wish I could hear him talk my ear off, complain about something, teach me some military fact...anything! I need only a couple of moments alone with him...
Treasure those alone moments. Make the time for those moments.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Milestone Missed...
Life continues on for us all but more for those who haven't lost a child. In my world, there is a definitely a stop point; a moment where the world ceased to continue to turn. Of course, its when Harrison died. His life stopped and so did all that involves him. The celebrations, loves, disappointments, accomplishments, heartaches...all of it.
Don't misunderstand, my world and the world of my remaining children continue, but it is possible for that one part of it to stop. It seems empty and cold in that part of my heart and soul. All the lost moments which will never take place. I grasp for the hopes he didn't miss out on much.
I'm rambling on. Today is the day Harrison would be graduating high school. Class of 2015. Fellow classmates he went to school with since Kindergarten will walk on that stage and receive a diploma, reach that milestone in life. Parents will smile and cry with pride and joy. There will be kids hugging, smiling and crying after as they reality of the end of high school hits them while wearing their caps and gowns.
A cap and gown Harrison will never have come to wear. A sense of accomplishment he will never feel. Another milestone he will not reach.
A parent marks their children's lives with these milestones; a parent who has buried marks their death with these milestones missed. This is the way it will play out for today. I am honored to attend the graduation of Royal High Class of 2015 and watch those classmates graduate. I am strong enough to be there and see it done. I am able to live through it even with a broken heart!
Don't misunderstand, my world and the world of my remaining children continue, but it is possible for that one part of it to stop. It seems empty and cold in that part of my heart and soul. All the lost moments which will never take place. I grasp for the hopes he didn't miss out on much.
I'm rambling on. Today is the day Harrison would be graduating high school. Class of 2015. Fellow classmates he went to school with since Kindergarten will walk on that stage and receive a diploma, reach that milestone in life. Parents will smile and cry with pride and joy. There will be kids hugging, smiling and crying after as they reality of the end of high school hits them while wearing their caps and gowns.
A cap and gown Harrison will never have come to wear. A sense of accomplishment he will never feel. Another milestone he will not reach.
A parent marks their children's lives with these milestones; a parent who has buried marks their death with these milestones missed. This is the way it will play out for today. I am honored to attend the graduation of Royal High Class of 2015 and watch those classmates graduate. I am strong enough to be there and see it done. I am able to live through it even with a broken heart!
Thursday, May 28, 2015
It'll Get Better...
I've come to learn this is a statement I am not fond of really. Why? Because it doesn't get better, it hasn't, and I don't see it doing so.
I've said before there are certain days that will be forever etched in my mind. Yesterday was yet another one of those days. I finally gathered up the courage to visit Harrison since his marker was placed. It hit me hard because it made it all the more real. See his name in granite, his beautiful picture and those two days in my life I will always remember in great detail like it happened today. Those two days which changed my life and who I am completely forever.
Seeing it, even though I'm outside, it's like there's not enough air to breathe in, like it's been sucked out of the world. I feel like I've been kicked in my chest and my heart is literally breaking in my chest. My head starts pounding so hard and my eyes burn from the rush of tears. All I can do is lay there and cry.
I was told it'll get better by a well meaning friend and he doesn't live it so couldn't understand. Let me explain why I cannot stand that statement though.
It doesn't get better living without a child. Time does not soften the blow, make it easier to wake up knowing I will never see, hold, share life and so much more all with my son. As days pass, I don't get comfort knowing he was robbed of life and all the milestones others will live out and he will not. The more nights I go to bed crying and praying doesn't make it easier to sleep with the images I have of the last few days I saw him, alive and dead.
No, it doesn't get better. For me, I just know I won't literally die from the hurt, from the broken heart. I know I can cry for days on end and it's ok. I can just sit and not worry about laundry or chores and just work through my sadness and that's ok. This is not better, this is learning to live with the new normal. Learning to accept the grief process that is a roller coaster--some days up and some days down.
Are you ok? That question is a great question though. Because I am ok. I am ok to cry and be sad. I'm ok because I know its normal and I'll work through it. I know if it gets really bad, who to reach out to and what to do. So when you see me crying, "are you ok?" is not a stupid question. If I say "no," then I'll ask for help. It may just be a hug or please just cry with me. But usually, I just need to cry it out.
Please, for me, don't tell me it gets better. Tell it's ok...ok to cry and be sad. Ok to talk about Harrison or share my grief. Or if you're uncomfortable with the whole situation, it's ok to not say or do anything. I completely understand.
I've said before there are certain days that will be forever etched in my mind. Yesterday was yet another one of those days. I finally gathered up the courage to visit Harrison since his marker was placed. It hit me hard because it made it all the more real. See his name in granite, his beautiful picture and those two days in my life I will always remember in great detail like it happened today. Those two days which changed my life and who I am completely forever.
Seeing it, even though I'm outside, it's like there's not enough air to breathe in, like it's been sucked out of the world. I feel like I've been kicked in my chest and my heart is literally breaking in my chest. My head starts pounding so hard and my eyes burn from the rush of tears. All I can do is lay there and cry.
I was told it'll get better by a well meaning friend and he doesn't live it so couldn't understand. Let me explain why I cannot stand that statement though.
It doesn't get better living without a child. Time does not soften the blow, make it easier to wake up knowing I will never see, hold, share life and so much more all with my son. As days pass, I don't get comfort knowing he was robbed of life and all the milestones others will live out and he will not. The more nights I go to bed crying and praying doesn't make it easier to sleep with the images I have of the last few days I saw him, alive and dead.
No, it doesn't get better. For me, I just know I won't literally die from the hurt, from the broken heart. I know I can cry for days on end and it's ok. I can just sit and not worry about laundry or chores and just work through my sadness and that's ok. This is not better, this is learning to live with the new normal. Learning to accept the grief process that is a roller coaster--some days up and some days down.
Are you ok? That question is a great question though. Because I am ok. I am ok to cry and be sad. I'm ok because I know its normal and I'll work through it. I know if it gets really bad, who to reach out to and what to do. So when you see me crying, "are you ok?" is not a stupid question. If I say "no," then I'll ask for help. It may just be a hug or please just cry with me. But usually, I just need to cry it out.
Please, for me, don't tell me it gets better. Tell it's ok...ok to cry and be sad. Ok to talk about Harrison or share my grief. Or if you're uncomfortable with the whole situation, it's ok to not say or do anything. I completely understand.
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Life's Remnants
I've decided to use this blog in a different manner: how I live without Harrison. This came after another day which will be yet another significant one since his death.
Harris is always on my mind but yesterday morning I missed him more. Then I received a message from his sophomore English teacher; she had a paper he wrote and wanted to give it to me. This is huge for me...
In life, we leave remnants of ourselves in places, with people, all over. These remnants represent our personalities, dreams, desires, loves, losses and more. The longer we live, the more lives we touch, the more remnants spread throughout the world.
Harrison left many remnants for his young age of 16. I still can recall his vigil and all said like it was last night. I learned more about my son than I ever expected. Things said were deeper and more heartfelt than the typical "he was a great guy and I will miss him." Harrison made lasting, great impressions with many people who will remember him and all he was for the rest of their lives. And they will share those memories with others because of how deep he touched them.
Yesterday the remnant left was a powerful one which hit me hard. In tenth grade, Harrison had an assignment in which he was to write a paper about his personal legend, what he would like to see his life become. It spoke of honor, commitment, hard work, family, love with such a fierce passion it was obvious it was his destiny.
Then it hit me: it is a life that would never happen. Harrison knew what he wanted in life and he didn't let others change his dreams. He was wise beyond his years. This young man, who wrote this paper at the age of 14, knew exactly what he wanted out of life, how to get it and was ready to put in all the hard work needed to get it.
One day finding new remnants will come to an end. The ones from Harrison I come across are the greatest treasures he sends me in my life now.
Thank you Mrs. Lev
Harris is always on my mind but yesterday morning I missed him more. Then I received a message from his sophomore English teacher; she had a paper he wrote and wanted to give it to me. This is huge for me...
In life, we leave remnants of ourselves in places, with people, all over. These remnants represent our personalities, dreams, desires, loves, losses and more. The longer we live, the more lives we touch, the more remnants spread throughout the world.
Harrison left many remnants for his young age of 16. I still can recall his vigil and all said like it was last night. I learned more about my son than I ever expected. Things said were deeper and more heartfelt than the typical "he was a great guy and I will miss him." Harrison made lasting, great impressions with many people who will remember him and all he was for the rest of their lives. And they will share those memories with others because of how deep he touched them.
Yesterday the remnant left was a powerful one which hit me hard. In tenth grade, Harrison had an assignment in which he was to write a paper about his personal legend, what he would like to see his life become. It spoke of honor, commitment, hard work, family, love with such a fierce passion it was obvious it was his destiny.
Then it hit me: it is a life that would never happen. Harrison knew what he wanted in life and he didn't let others change his dreams. He was wise beyond his years. This young man, who wrote this paper at the age of 14, knew exactly what he wanted out of life, how to get it and was ready to put in all the hard work needed to get it.
One day finding new remnants will come to an end. The ones from Harrison I come across are the greatest treasures he sends me in my life now.
Thank you Mrs. Lev
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