This is so hard.
My children need me, and yet I'm so lost I don't know how to help them. We started going to Judi's house and it's helpful in giving me tools to help the kids but there are days I feel like I've missed the boat. They didn't just lose their brother, they lost happiness, they lost wholeness, the lost the life they had lived. All I can do is keep loving them through this even more so when they direct their pain at me.
The bigs blame themselves "Bram always did what we did, we should have stayed next to him, we shouldn't have crossed the street, he wanted to be with us" I've witnessed regression in K, who's 5 years old. He still talks about seeing his brother's face torn off. And the sweet boy has been sleeping with us most nights because he's scared. He's afraid to not be with us, he's afraid if were out of his sight he will lose us. Poor T, who's 7 years old, has turned inward, beating himself internally, carrying a weight of guilt he shouldn't know and doesn't deserve to carry. The little was in my arms when I saw Bram, when all I could do was scream and I didn't even know I was screaming. So any rise in my voice and he gets scared. They rage, they cling, and they break. The cycle of pain repeats.
I treasure their moments of happiness, where the light they once had shines through, their sweet precious giggles and plotting of time machines and transformer battles. I cling to those moments, where I can see they'll be ok, where I see progress. Without those moments I don't know where we would be.