cold December

I'll always remember this December of 2010. My best friend Sue died on the 7th. Her funeral was yesterday. Her poor mother looked so weak. Someone there said that they don't know how a mother buries her own child (this is her 2nd child to have buried), and then "goes on with their life".
I replied that I'm surprised that a mother who has buried her child can even stand on her own two legs sometimes, and have them hold her up. For some of us, Faith holds us up, though for me, it waivered after Dylan left, until I realized that God had NOT "CHOSEN" Dylan to die that day. The doctors LET him die and God accepted him right into heaven, where he had just come from. The service at the church was lovely, but the viewing, her laying there so cold and lifeless, I just kept expecting her chest to rise with a breath. I stayed all day in support of my Bestie's family whom I've known all of my life basically. Two people read poems, one person shared funny memories of Sue loving her presents on her birthday and Christmas and taking a pic with EACH gift lol. Then the cemetary. The cold, lonely cemetary. I find no peace when I go to visit my baby. I went last Friday to bring him his "gifts" for Christmas. How does a mother do that? How does she SURVIVE that? When we arrived yesterday, we pulled around to where all the beautiful, giant arrangements of purple flowers had been placed. Her final resting spot near to her older brother Jimmy and her maternal grandparents. Silver casket engraved with words on the top that I can't even remember right now. The wind blew so hard during the graveside service, everyone's teeth were chattering. Then back 20 miles to the church for a luncheon which was very nice.
I'll miss you girlie and I'll love and remember you always. Thanks for always being my friend. No drama, no stress, no strife. Just so easy to be around. Thats how I'll remember you. Sure there were times when I wish you had done some things differently towards your own body, your own mind and health, but I wouldn't change a thing that you've ever made ME feel. Always content and relaxed around you. Thats RARE.
My Christmas tree at our house this year has 700 PURPLE lights in memory of you, Sue and it looks beautiful,just as I will always remember you , beautiful, carefree and loving. I told your mom yesterday that I've always been your friend and that I'll continue to love you and be your friend.

driving,shopping and decorating

Today after work I drove to the mall to get a sweater for my Mom. While at work, I planned the route I would take. Not an easy route by any means. The quickest way to get to the highway that I needed to be on was to drive by the cemetery. The one where my baby Dylan is. My MIL is there too. When I started the car in the parking lot at work, I took a deep breath and pulled out. About ten minutes later, I was driving past St. Thomas. As I approached, my mind just sort of fuzzed out and I felt sick to my stomach and I glanced in towards his headstone. That is absolutely something that NO baby or child should have. A headstone. I physically felt my heart sink as I drove by and now as I type too. Once I got onto the highway Rt. 1, I headed towards the mall and got a close spot to park and went right in and found a sweater for my mother within 2 minutes. That part was good. I even kept looking around for a few minutes to see if I could find something else, but paid for and left with the one that I really wanted for her.
As I drove home, I cried and blared the music and sang each song out loud all the way home at the top of my voice.
It's so draining. So emotionally draining. I rested for a bit when I got home, and B came home from school. We went out for a little dinner and picked up his best friend to spend the night here. I've been decorating for Christmas for the past 2 1/2 hours trying to get as much done asap so I can sit and try to enjoy it instead of these past years of it taking sooooo long to get things up and ready and by the time I'm done, it's time to take it all down. I'm trying to brace myself for the days ahead. My hubby is going away for a week, he does it each year usually at this time. It's hard with him away, even though I don't see him much Mon-Fri anyway. At least I know he's nearby at work, or here at home while I'm sleeping.
So I must prepare for all that is "planned" in the days to come. A little more shopping to do, lots of wrapping (I'm thankful for the people that I can buy gifts for!) , and more decorating to do as well as getting the fresh cut tree and placing about 230 ornaments all specially chosen from a specific place we've been so we can remember it always. and of course the sweet ones for Dylan. Half the Christmas stuff is down from the attic , scattered all over the living room and dining room, so I'd better get back to it.

Christmas season

I've started my holiday shopping as of today. While in the toy section, my heart was already heavy, missing my Dylan boy and the song came on the radio. HIS song, the song we associate with our boy in heaven. Drops of Jupiter by Train. I kind of slowed down my cart and breathed in deeply. Every day is hard without him, his birthday is especially hard. (It's his angel day too) but Christmas Day is so very hard, to even get out of bed, I want to, and I know I need to, but my body is so exhausted by that time that I have to really drag myself up out of it. Perhaps it's more mental exhaustion than physical. In fact, I'm sure that it is. This time of year is so hard on grieving parents. Dylan's been back in heaven for over  9 years now , I'm sure that people think that time has healed me, or whatever. It hasn't. My son still isn't here and I STILL want him here. That won't ever change, no matter how much time goes by or what day it is.

friends

Just got off the phone with a friend. She's the type of friend who never knows what to say when I mention Dylan.
I told her that Brandon was at an observatory with the Scouts, my hubby is at work and I am getting ready to eat dinner. She said "by yourself"?, well, my other son is in heaven but he should be here , is what I wanted to say, but I just answered, yep...
Like I've said before, every DAY it's something that jabs at my heavy heart.

heavy hearted day

Along with how hard it was to go where I went earlier, tonight was rough too. A fellow Scout mom told me that her son is going camping next weekend, and will be "tent mates" with his "other friend". Thats fine, but it just makes me wonder if ANYONE ever thinks of Brandon being "by himself" at home and does that make them want to include him in other things. He's NOT an only child. He has a BROTHER.
Anyway, Brandon found out that another boy (B) is going, so they'll tent together this time.
AND.... saw the cub scout leader that Brandon used to have (He's a boy scout now, not a cub) and he offered to take Brandon to an observatory nearby on monday night. I asked him if "B" knew about the offer and he said, oh yeah, his little brother is still a cub, so they got the email. Dylan would be a cubscout TOO if he didn't die.
It hurt my heart, much like everything else is doing on this miserable day. I'm glad it's almost over.

R.I.P. Karen

I met my mom at the funeral home and we went in together. They had a collage of photos on a board on display. They were of the girl that I remember from years ago. There were pictures of her kids, including her baby son who passed away. Two of her kids were there, and one was in school.

Through another doorway, just behind the photo display was the room. You know, the room where they have the person laid out in the casket. I didn't go in at first, there were alot of people up front. So I took a seat and waited. Then there was only one person up there, so I headed that way. It was her sister Donna, she was sobbing and holding her sisters hand. I told her who I was and that I was sorry about her sister passing away. I only touched Karen's hand and it was ice cold. How awful a thought of what happens to the body after death that they have to freeze you or refrigerate you to postpone the after effects.
I remember that coldness with my baby boy. Not at first, but on the last day that they brought him to us.
I remember it and I hate it. I hate all of this.
Her mother, oh her poor mother, was a mess. She said they still don't know what happened. It doesn't matter any way because nothing is going to bring her back. Not prayers, not tears, not screaming, not even a broken heart.

A new baby

A child was born today. He was a little over a week overdue, so they induced her, then did a c section because it didn't work. They were making sure of her and the child's safety. They took precautions. They made sure things went right. "They" are the killer hospital, the same place that LET MY CHILD DIE. They CAUSED his death.
Why aren't they so "safe" with every pregnant woman that comes in? Why aren't they so "safe" with EVERY BABY waiting to be delivered?
I'm glad her baby made it safe and sound. and I miss MY BABY.