I wrote this one day not long ago when I was trying to describe to someone how life is day to day grieving our son and I couldn’t find the words. This is as close as I can get to explaining my days.
Like walking into a brick wall while I walk from the kitchen to my bedroom when suddenly a flash of an image of Kenny pops in my head, my son is laying on the snowy ground. Lifeless. Instantly I hear myself scream in my head. So very loud. Over and over. I cover my ears, close my eyes and shake my head in desperation to pray this moment in time away from my mind. God help me! My baby is gone! Any bit of stable my mind had felt before that split second disappears and the panic takes over. It stops you in your tracks. Grabs control and once again you sit in a daze. The worst day of your life smacks you in the face. You sink internally into a pit of sadness and there you’ll stay. For awhile. Maybe a day. Maybe a week. It will feel like the moment you knew your child was gone all over again. And again. And again. Life being stuck on replay. The war that takes place in the mind, the battle to control the flashes of memories is exhausting. What I wouldn’t do to only remember the good.
Then with faith, prayer and with the strength that you pull from anywhere you can, happiness will slowly begin to enter your heart again. Happy memories will play in your mind. The love you have for your family will pull you out of that despair. You can sit once again and think of your child and smile just picturing their smile, even if your thoughts are accompanied with tears at least your feeling anything but pure sadness.
The battle you just fought within your mind won’t be seen. The exhaustion your left with won’t be understood. But there it’ll be waiting for you. Rest your mind. You will feel a bit renewed, fix yourself up, make a big dinner for your family, get out more. The good days! Then Bam! Brick wall again.
KennyBugs Momma, Angela!