Monday, November 17, 2014

2 years

The truth is, I don't know how to do this. 2 years since he died, 2 years since I heard him say I love you, 2 years since we hugged, 2 years since he hogged the bed, 2 years since he played with his brothers. 2 years and while I'm not screaming out loud, the agony is still here, just as fresh, just as raw. My son was killed because of a driver's negligence, he doesn't need to be dead. And I still see it everywhere, the distracted.

This weekend as I half heartedly prepped for bramiversary I held my boys as they sobbed for their brother. I hear the words no child should say "I wish my brother was never killed." I fought sleep in fear of another prophetic dream. I tried to fill the holes. We hurt, we bickered, we hugged, we struggle. So often it's a struggle.

We've lost 2 years of our lives, and maybe this next year will be better, they there's firsts we will face this year, like him being dead longer than he lived. I'm not ok today. I'm not healed. We're not healed.

My stomach hurts, my heart hurts. I don't know how to carry this. I don't know how to breathe through this. Contrary to Bram's "that's too much" meaning more, this is actually too much. I avoid the grief, I avoid and fill. I have to fill the holes, with food, with obsessions, with sarcasm, with anger and bitterness, with apathy. Plug up those holes, even temporarily and I can numb the hurt. but it doesn't matter how hard I try, the holes, the bleeding oozing Bram shaped crater in my soul stays. I've learned that I have to face this pain. I've realized I need to use love for the holes. Not fillers.

All of us miss Bram, and I don't want to imagine a future without him. I want him there, I want to see him grow up, I want to know who he was meant to be. How do you ever except a future without your child? How do you hold hope for a future without your baby there?

1 comment:

  1. I want to type something to ease your pain, encourage your heart, embrace you with words. I don't know how or what, though, and so I pray. I have prayed on this response for nearly a month and I still don't know.

    A friend of mine had a stillborn baby and she truly did not know how to move on because it felt like leaving her little guy behind. And his death was preventable. She has a rarely clotting disorder that primarily happens when she's pregnant. For some reason it was never caught with her first two children and by God's grace and mercy they were born without complication (though she did lose a lot of blood with the second one). She lost Ethan when her second was about three years old. Many years later she became pregnant with a little girl. Her second was now almost nine. This time she had a "high-risk" doctor and got all the medication she needed to help avoid what happened with Ethan. Isabella was born healthy. She said she finally understood that Ethan had a purpose, and it was saving his own sister's life. Before Isabella she could never make sense of it. She never understood why Ethan died. It didn't make it easy but it was important to her because she might have lost Izzy, too, if she hadn't lost Ethan and learned what the issues were/are.

    I know it doesn't make it easy but Bram's life has had purpose. Even in my life. We are much more careful in parking lots. My eight-year-old knows about Bram and why it's super important for him to look out for his two-year-old brother. Perhaps, it helps to know his life does have meaning and purpose? God only knows how many little lives you/he may have already saved just by you sharing about him, his life, and your own grief.

    I continue to pray for the abundance of LOVE you must need to get by through the good days and bad. *hugs* Press on, friend.


Thanks for reading and loving Bram!