Blame – Please Shhh 

Theo my Angel,

Today is a day like any other. You are on my mind endlessly. I was making lunch today as I wondered how I ever accomplish anything when my mind always seems to be on you. I feel like our life must be on autopilot. Even though it has been 253 days since you left our physical world it still feels new to have my mind 100% preoccupied. I have never thought about a person or a thing so much in my life.

I just put your brothers down for a nap. Jack is sleeping in the hammock and Patrick in the trailer. We are just finishing up another week at the lake. As they both were less than excited for a nap I wondered if I would have ever had successfully laid 3 boys down for a nap at the same time? Would we have had the peace and couple hour break to refill my own cup by reading or chatting with your Dad on the beach? I have these thoughts and they come with so many mixed emotions. I feel like it sounds like I am grateful to only have the two boys because it is easier and I do get breaks I am sure wouldn’t have gotten had you been here. It makes me feel like I am a terrible mother for enjoying some of the realities of your death. My brain knows this is crazy but my heart can’t help but want to punish me for enjoying these moments especially since I am so conscious of the fact I wouldn’t have this if you were still here. I know it goes without saying I would always choose you over any sleep, break, book, or chat.

I have slowly started to realize how much I do blame myself you aren’t here. I blame myself so many people feel such pain from your absence or witnessing our pain and how much everything in our life has changed. Intellectually I know I am not to blame but there is something that whispers, “without me there wouldn’t be a you, without you people’s hearts wouldn’t be so hurt”. Maybe it is easier to accept your loss if I can pinpoint blame, maybe it is natural to want to find fault, maybe one day these whispers will go away as they will no longer feel true and no longer be floating around.

I find it easy to be grateful for all the ways you have made me a better person and have given me a new lens in which I see the world but I struggle with being grateful for thing such as more sleep, extra free time, a less hectic schedule and even the more one on one time I have with your brothers. I love my time with them, just knowing I have it because you are gone is something I struggle appreciating.

I promise you I will find a way to silence the whispers, to allow myself to unload the weight of the blame, and accept what I know to be true; that this was all meant to happen and we all needed to experience this loss together.

Grief is funny, when you think you have things figured out changes within you take place, you see things that were always there but didn’t realize and with that you have a whole new set of realities to work through. Grief work is hard, it is ever changing and never ending.

I love you Theo, you are my beacon of hope, I see you everywhere, and am truly grateful for you, all of you.

Your greatest fan, your Mommy

Surviving the Tsunami of Grief

My love Theodore,

I am here, one with you in our hammock over looking Papineau Lake. The sun is shining, the wind is blowing a beautiful breeze and I am laying here with our crazy dog Jam beneath me while Patrick is sleeping and Jack is fishing with your Dad and Great Uncle Freeman.

You have been on my mind endlessly. I have spent much time in the last week thinking of how hard I crashed after riding a pretty long wave of peace. How depleted I felt, how the permanence of you being gone hit so hard and realizing how I will wake up in 20 years and have days like I just experienced.

I wrote you last from your resting place, I was the saddest I have been since you came into my world . My sadness stole my strength, my ability to function and complete simple tasks for three days. Filling my car with gas is an example of something I simply couldn’t do. My strength was replaced by endless tears, a tap was turned on and near impossible to turn off. You see grief is nothing more than a storm that comes and goes. Sometimes it is a beautiful rain shower and other times it is as crippling as a tsunami. I have now experienced the tsunami and the power it comes with.

I am so grateful to have felt it. To have lived it and to be reassured that the calm will always return and I will be okay. The calm did come, life went back to our new normal and your brothers have their Mom back and your Dad has his wife once again. We laugh, we love and we live. The tsunami temporarily steals that all from you. My heart aches for those who feel this on a more regular frequency.

So here I am with you, thinking and feeling so grateful for all you give me. Your gifts are ones I would give back in a heartbeat to have you in my arms if that was an option but it simply isn’t. So being open to see these gifts even if it is by having to look in the rearview mirror helps me to continue to grow and remain open for change. Having the tsunami hit allowed me to feel what many feel when struggling with life, sometimes you just can’t push the hard stuff aside, suck it up and get on with life. Sometimes life says enough! Enough is enough and you have to sit with it and feel it all. I appreciate the new perspective. I know it will be a matter of time before another hits but I am grateful for the variety of storms that come allowing me to feel such a wide range of emotions and gain a broader view which enables me to be much more empathetic. For now I am enjoying the wave of peace and holding you in my heart in the most loving way I can.

As I lay here I envision how it would have been, me and you rocking ever so gently in the hammock, the breeze blowing and you sleeping peacefully in my chest. I love you, I will never stop imagining all what could have been. Sometimes it hurts to think of and sometimes I can dream peacefully and full of love. Today I feel the latter.

Loving you is easy.

Your biggest fan, your Mommy