Memorial Day

I never planned for this. If you had asked me four years ago where I thought I would be in my life come 2014, I would have never imagined this. Back then I was a newlywed, dreaming of white picket fences and at least two children in my home with a third on the way. I thought my memorial days would be spent surrounded by family, friends, and delicious barbeque.

I didn't know what my future held, we never do....but like I said, I never would have imagined this. Instead of a two year old shrieking with laughter, my tears fall as I sit next to a grave. Instead of a tiny flower "picked for mommy", I get to pick flowers for him. I could ask how this is fair, but there would be no answer.

This memorial day I am choosing to focus on the thirty-eight beautiful weeks that I was blessed to share with my precious Gabriel. I am dreaming of the first time I heard the most beautiful sound in the world, a strong heartbeat. I am focusing on the happiness he brought my husband and I. In under a year my son taught me how to love freely and open my heart to joy! I always believed that I would teach my child about life, but in the amazing weeks we shared, he taught me.

This year is also special because my Uncle gave us an amazing gift for Gabriel's second heavenly birthday.

His headstone was placed just after Mother's Day. Even though it is something I didn't want at first, it is beautiful in so many ways.

The Confusing Emotions of a Broken Heart

My heart feels heavy.

An uncomfortable weight crushes my chest and it becomes harder to breathe every day. Grief has seeped into my bones and managed to stained my soul in ways I don't comprehend.

I have a small bookshelf in my living room that holds my most precious items from Gabriel's short life. I pass it every day, multiple times a day and ever so often I find my self gazing at those items with anger on my heart. It seems unfair that some how I have continued to be blessed. How is it that I can feel love and happiness? Some days it seems cruel to be alive, breathing and laughing while my son is dead.

Reality is cruel to the grieving.

Guilt taunts me, its cruel fingers digging into my mind and forcing from me self loathing and disgust. I thought I was passed this point in my grief journey...I was seeing the light but somehow I've fallen slid back down.

 It's hard to keep his memory alive. I know I am a horrible mother for saying this...but....sometimes I don't want to. I try to separate the pain and nightmare of losing him from the beautiful 38 weeks I had him with me. I try to talk about him and show off my tattoo that was done in memory of him. I wish I could forget the heart-breaking, tear inducing moments that have scarred my heart.

But the work of a grieving parent is never that easy, is it? When I first lost Gabriel I was determined to be the "best grieving mother" I could be. What was my idea of the new job description? I thought I would spend at least one hour a day at the cemetery every day just reading and talking to my baby boy. I was determined to buy fresh, beautiful flowers for him every week. I would celebrate every important holiday with him and even the unimportant ones just to be able to say, "My baby and I celebrated_______by doing_____". There would also be a new toy or trinket next to his grave every other week.

We are now just over the two year mark and I am lucky to make it out once a month. I wish I could be okay with that...but I can't. It hurt when no one brought a single flower on Gabriel's birthday this year...and don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the other ways we were able to celebrate but still...it hurt.

I don't know why I'm so sensitive....there has been so much going on in my family life and it doesn't help that I am quickly approaching my third mothers day with empty arms. It's the only kind of mothers day I've known....I think this year it might be better if I lock myself away and cast the world aside. Who knows, maybe I will just turn off my phone and cry until my pillow is soaked and my heart is empty.