It's Been Three Months

Today is the three month anniversary of Andrew’s death. Mark graciously let me sleep in. Then I took the oldest two to get a haircut with me and then we went shopping together. The weather was nice. The air smelled of grass and leaves with a hint of autumn. If the wind weren’t blowing the day would have been absolutely gorgeous. Weatherwise anyway. I enjoyed my boys’ company. They did quite well. We laughed and talked about all kinds of things, they “helped me out” and we learned together more about social etiquette in public. They are growing up so fast.

And the youngest, well, Ryan is Ryan. Full of life enough for two people. Having such vigor and excitement, he’s taking life by the reigns and shaking it to see what will come from it. And he does it all with a huge smile and shining eyes. A look that says, “Aren’t I the cutest thing?” I tucked him into bed with him reciting “I love you, I love you, I love you” numerous times in a row with his sweet little voice.

Alex, my second oldest, has decided that hugs and kisses are beyond him so I have to ask each evening if I may get both from him. His preference lately is a kiss only and then he tells me where to kiss him on his face. He often opts for a kiss on each cheek. Then he proceeds to give me the same affection. It’s very cute. And very boy.

And Samuel, my oldest, well, he is always ready to give hugs and kisses generously.

I shut their doors tonight with tears in my eyes. Our apartment is a bit unkempt with all of the boxes hanging around showing the signs that we are moving. And my thoughts easily turn to Andrew. If he were here we would not be moving. The oldest would not be attending school in a new school district, and Mark would not be looking for a job.

Now I don’t resent where we are at. Or the things that we are doing now. We are in a good place in a lot of regards. We have moved on in some respects. A new season is upon us. And I am excited to walk into it and see what becomes of it. Many good things are about to happen for us. But I would give it all back to have Andrew again.

A normal day? No it’s not. We may “fool” people on the outside but it isn’t true. Life is still not normal. Why do I still see his smiling face so clearly that I feel like I can almost touch it? Why does my heart ache and feel hollowed out at times when I hear a baby cry or see an ambulance drive by? Why is my mind haunted by the image of his little body lying in that hospital bed with tubes coming out of him as his heart beat its last? Why do I still scream inside for my son? That isn’t normal. That is life right now.

The school counselor was apprised of the “situation” and Mark told me that Alex said that if he could do it differently he would . . . . I’ll keep that between us. That was hard to hear. What a burden he carries for being so young. And it pains me and Mark.

This isn’t normal. This is dealing with grief. This is facing the loss of my little special. Ninety days without him. And here come the tears again. The heartache. The remembrance. The reminder. And I would carry him and give birth to him again in a heartbeat.

I love you little special. I always love you! And I miss you and wish you were here in this life.

The names of all of my boys, besides Andrew, have been changed to pseudonyms to protect them.