Wednesday, December 1, 2010

One of those days

The weather outside my window matches my heart today. Overcast, rainy, and sudden gusts of wind that blow the leaves every which way. My thoughts have been overcast in mood lately. Tears run freely before I even know I am sad. Bursts of emotion tumble me around just like that wind with those leaves.

I used to think that the "firsts" would be the hardest after Ben died. And they were. But now, it is still hard, yet in a different way. There is a fading of things: the sound of his voice, his mannerisms, his laugh. I feel them slipping from my mind. I try and grab them, but they fade like a dream upon wakening. I feel ashamed and angry that I cannot recall these things clearly. Each day takes me a little farther away from my boy and yet a little closer if you think about it. I will not live forever and therefore one day will join him in Heaven. The waiting for that day is not easy.

I have been thinking about this for a while now, but the words wouldn't come out right. They still don't, really. I wish I had even a few minutes to myself to sort out this jumble of thoughts in my head. Sometimes, just writing out the sad things is like a good cry. It doesn't change anything, but you feel relieved of a heavy burden.

Christmas shopping: I see things I know he would have loved to play with and it tugs at my heart knowing he is not here anymore.

At the commissary: A mother calls out "Benjamin" to her little boy and my head turns to see if he looks like my Benjamin.

At Mass: they sing a song he used to belt out with such enthusiasm and I choke up and cannot get out the words.

Meeting someone (who looks at the spacing of our children): they assume I've remarried and say "you have 2 little families". I want to chide them and reply, "No, my family was ripped in half." I would never do this, of course. I just smile and nod.

There. Heavy burden lightened for today. Tomorrow will be better. I have a cute story to share.


  1. Thinking of you Jenny. Hugs.


  2. (((hugs))) I'm so sorry. You have a heavy cross. Our Lord must love you very much.

  3. I know that pain. Hugs. It helps to remember that they are not far away and even though we can't see them, they are alive...

  4. I am so sorry for this awful pain that you face. You will continue to be in my prayers, especially this holiday season.