One month ago today, we carried our son Home.
That morning began with an anticipated surgery for a tracheotomy. I had dreaded that procedure for a week or more, but it went so quickly, and so well, that we exhaled, and hoped that we were getting ready to turn a corner we had been trying to get to for so very many days. Our relief that morning was short-lived, as other doctors determined that blood clots necessitated a fifth heart surgery in three weeks.
The rest, they say, is history. But it isn't history. It is every single moment. It is in lazy summer mornings, every load of laundry, every time I ask a little brother to take out the trash or empty the dishwasher. (They used to argue about "I have to do EVERYTHING" -- now he has no one to blame it on.) It is in unread summer reading, overdue library books, unopened AP scores, a stack of college mail. It is in hockey schedules and school shopping.
Grief is sneaky. I never know what will set it off, and sometimes, I can't figure out what "it" was. But sometimes I can. Yesterday, I went to get my hair cut, and five minutes in, the man in the chair next to me started talking to his stylist about how his wife's mom had died a couple of weeks ago, and he kept going on and on about how she was crying every day and the stages of grief. Apparently I had a little bit of a panic attack.
We are searching for the new normal. For how to live our lives without Mitchell. For someone so quiet, he certainly was a large personality and presence, and filling the void he leaves will be forever impossible. We can't sit around and cry all the time. As I told C, we are still a family, we can still have good times and we can still have fun. But every smile and laugh makes me feel guilty, makes me think how much he would enjoy that moment, too.
I am so thankful for the sixteen years we got. But selfishly, I don't think it was enough.
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Thinking of you many times a day. Praying for your broken heart. Keep writing!
ReplyDeletePlease know we are still praying for you all every day. And please, don't feel guilty for the smiles and laughter, Mitchell IS enjoying those moments with you, just not in your presence. The void he left behind will always be here on this Earth, but you will be reunited again in Heaven, just as God promises. We love you all.
ReplyDeleteGrief is sneaky, hard and constant. They say it gets better with time. I think they lie. I think you just learn to deal with it better. There isn't a day when I don't think of you. I think of Mike and Carson too, it's just more you. There's something special about "your baby", for that is what he will always be. It's a magical thing. I wish I could take away some of your pain. Fill the void. Something. I know I cannot. I feel certain that the baby you raised would want you to smile, to laugh, to find some measure of comfort. I sure that when you, he, too, is smiling down.....comforted by that thought that for at least a moment, you were able to be happy again. xo
ReplyDeleteI think of you guys every single day. I hope that you all start to have more good times and start to heal little by little. Love y'all!
ReplyDeleteTara, I don't know what to say. I know you aren't searching for what anyone else has to say. Your writings paint a picture of grief of loss yet celebration of eternal life, strengthen our faith and remind us each time we read and remember Mitchell, whether we saw him once a month or every day how much of an impact one person can mean to an entire community. I believe that Mitchell, through the impressions he made in his 16 year yet brief stint of life on earth through us knowing and loving him along with what you write, not just for your self but for all of us have reached and are reaching far beyond what we can ever comprehend. There is a stirring of many emotions each time I think of Mitchell. The one emotion that eclipses all is the joy in knowing that Mitchell truly is in the arms of our Lord. So Tara, please keep writing, lean on your friends, family and community when the sorrow is the deepest. I think that I speak for countless others when I say your family is a beacon of hope and strength in faith. Your ever growing community is leaning on you.
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