I have encountered a lot of weirdness in losing Bram.
The weirdest of all being those who wish for my kind of life, the life of a bereaved parent, to be their life. Wishing they had this.... I guess: "attention" or wishing they could have fund raisers. Cause yeah, raising funds for your kid's funeral is super fun.
Let me tell you this for me and every parent who has ever had to hold their dead child, who had to decide burial or cremation, who had to decide closed or open casket, or pay extra to be present when their child's body is put into and incinerator be burned into ash, or pick clothes for their dead child to wear and be asked to bring a hat, or decide whether or not to donate their child's organs if they had the luxury of having the option to make that choice, or who had to get a heart sinking phone call from the corner to discuss the cause of their child's death, or had to hear the answer "no" when asking if your baby at least has a heartbeat: THIS IS OURS! You do not get this pain, you do not get to make this about YOU, and no YOU don't get it. So don't ever, ever, ever tell us how to feel, or what we need, or how to act or whatever.
Only those who get it don't dare make it theirs. Only those who get it, validate. Only those with the truest of empathy and genuine hearts offer up love and support. And wow was my world rocked, and continues to be, by those who get it even in the smallest of ways. They are people I want to be like when I grow up.
So dear creepy mentally messed up people in this world, who in some twisted way want THIS to be your life, APPRECIATE THE LIFE YOU HAVE. You don't want this one. I promise.
And the rest of the people: you're freaking rockstars.