The Memories That Slip Away

Snow is falling and the wind is blowing. Even though it is nightime, the clouds trap the city lights and the air has this grayish purple glow to it. And the sky looks like it has its own intrinsic light. As I look out my dining room window, I see one of our larger, older trees shaking slightly in the wind. Its leave rustle although I hear no sound of their movement. Instead I only hear the slight swoosh of the furnace heating our home. Countering the extreme cold of the winter landscape outside.

It finally feels like Christmastime. A holiday that I normally just relish and savor listening to the music of this beautiful time of year. And this year, both Mark and I have struggled with getting excited or motivated for this holiday.

Andrew's second birthday has come and gone. Although Mark and I discussed the fact of what the day was yesterday, the boys did not comment. It was almost like they didn't notice. In some ways I envy their seeming innocence in this vein of our lives. And yet I know they too will feel more pain over this loss in the days, months and years to come.

I have noticed of late that my memory, my recall of my little special isn't as crisp as it used to be. It's harder for me to remember his face. The look in his eyes. How they twinkled and looked deep into mine. The sounds he would make as he "talked" to me. The giggle he would let slip out as he grinned all big at me.

He was so full of life and yet, it's his life that seems to be slipping away. Almost like I'm forgetting him.

I try so hard to keep it all there. But it just keeps departing from my recollection bit by bit. Moment by moment. Minute by minute that I shared with him.

How he felt. How he loved. How he was.

This makes me so sad.

I look at pictures of him and it's almost like he's a stranger. How can this be? A mother can't forget her own child. I know I'm not forgetting my son but it sure seems like I am. This isn't right.

I miss him so much.

And it hurts so badly sometimes I want to tear out my heart and stop feeling. I want to stop existing. (Not kill myself - it just hurts so much it would be nice not to feel the pain of losing him.)

But it feels like I'm forgetting him.

Then I get a bit anxious.

I can't forget him. That can't be what's happening.

And yet . . . . I can't bring him to mind as easily or in as much detail as I used to. And although I know I will never forget him, he's my son that I carried and bore. He's my flesh and blood.  A part of me. A mother can't forget her children ever. Besides, I still bear the scar where they cut me open to get him out so that he and I would live.

But I still find myself wondering, am I forgetting him? Will he keep just slipping away bit by bit over they years until he's only a photograph and emotions felt without memories attached?

To forget him, would be one of the most awful things I think. And it causes tears to well up in my eyes and trickle down my cheeks. And makes my sting as though its very nerves are being pulled out.

Oh how awful this all is at times.

Can you hear my quiet cries? Can you see the tears streaming down my face?

Can anyone see Andrew?