Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Afraid of what's to come

I feel ok most of the time. Not a forced ok, not just functioning. This ok-ness is like a baby learning to walk. I can't do it on my own. I'm wobbly, I might take a step here or there just to drop to my knees and go back to crawling again. I need a hand, I need support, I need cheerleaders, and I need to be soothed when I fall hard on my butt and break down. 

But Im afraid to live. I'm afraid to really be ok and I don't know that Im yet capable.

I'm afraid that if I enjoy life, if I dare say I'm happy people will forget the gravity of the loss, the chunks of our souls (as individuals  and as a family) that have been ripped from this earth. Im afraid people will forget the sadness and pain that bubbles just under the surface aided with the perfect image or sound or words will knock me over and I won't be ok. I'll blow up, or shut down. 

I'm afraid of this new chapter. I'm so insecure and unsure of what to do with this life. To lead a life well lived for the life Bram didn't get. 

I'm afraid to talk about Bram. I'm afraid of being a downer. I'm afraid the boys will think I love Bram more than them because I talk about Bram. When really I love all of them with every cell in my body (and considering how fluffy I am that's a lot of cells!)

If I do find happiness people need to know the happiness that exists now is nothing like the happiness in the before.  But I will be grateful to feel something that Bram shined on all those he knew everyday of his life.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous10 July, 2013

    Those around you won't forget the loss either. My 8 yr old cousin died tragically (hit by a car) when I was 16. I distinctly remember waking up one day in college 3 years later and realizing with a tiny jolt of pain that I hadn't thought about him the previous day.
    I think about him every time I see a picture of his family on facebook, every time I see a picture of the other little boy in our church that he shared a birth month with who is now a college student... I haven't said anything to his mom or his sisters about him in years and years because I honestly don't know what to say. But I haven't forgotten him. I know they haven't forgotten him. It's just hard. Heck, I'm tearing up as I write this, and I haven't cried for him in a long time.
    I guess what I'm trying to say, rather ineptly, is that I am confident you will figure out this new stage of life after tragedy. Our ability to survive terrible pain doesn't diminish how terrible it was. Our children are supposed to outlive us, and when they leave us too soon there is no guideline for how to go one without them.
    I don't know you personally but I've been following your blog for a while and I've been very touched by you sharing your story.
    I don't have any words of wisdom for you, just sending you the loving thoughts of a stranger and wanting you to know that those who loved him will carry your son in their hearts too even if perhaps they never tell you.


Thanks for reading and loving Bram!