Last weekend we escaped to New Hampshire. I say ‘escaped’ because Parker and I had 2 blissful days alone. We could actually start AND finish a conversation uninterrupted, stay up late, and go to a restaurant without a kids menu. I love Darcy and try very hard not to take a moment of my time with her for granted, but it was a nice break.
Tara and Chris met us with the kids on Friday and we ventured to Storyland. We already did Disney, so I was unprepared for my reaction in Storyland. Maybe it was because Darcy was around the same age as Benny the first time we took her, maybe it was because there were a million little blond eyed angels with curly blonde locks, or maybe the numbness is starting to give way to reality. Whatever the case, it was tough.
You can’t really dwell on it when you’re running around with three very energetic kiddos, so once the moment happened, something would distract me and I would be on my way. We had a really great time and it was so nice to see Darcy really break out of her comfort zone and exhibit some confidence. We had a blast.
When we were sitting in the condo I noticed that Chris’ bag had the number 88 on it, the bag that we took around to the park and hiking. We were also lucky enough to hear Benny and the Jets on the way to our Sunday hike to the river. Darcy and I always sang that song to the dude, and it’s probably how his nickname came about. There’s those signs again. It was comforthing to know that he was there with us, I just rather it be in person…
I’m angry. I’m angry and I’m sad. We sat down to update our pictures in our picture frames. We will never have pictures of Benny past 17 months old, he will forever be frozen in time. I will never know what he would have looked like because he will never grow up. When he was born I remember the nurse holding him and asking him if he would be the one to cure cancer or create world peace. We will never know what amazing things he could have done with his life. I look at Darcy and she just seems so damn grown up. I miss having my little guy around. Like Parker said the other night, I just want to blow raspberries on his tummy.
It’s been 8 months. I don’t know how this happened. When we hit 17 months we will have lived without him the same length of time that we lived with him. We’re almost halfway there. It kills me inside. I don’t know why this happened to us. I don’t know why it was him and not me. I don’t know why I’m here again. My grandparents, my aunt, my uncle, my God parents, my mom and my son. Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe this is hell and I don’t even know it. Sure feels like it some days.
8 months. There’s that number again. November 8th, the day he died; May 8th, the day we buried him; June 18th, the day the water main broke; 88, Parker’s car number on the Great Race. I’m not sure yet the significance of 8. I know that turned on it’s side it symbolizes infinity. How ironic a sign of infinity in this case.
I look at my physical scars, mostly healed now and I’m frustrated. How do I look the same 8 months later on the outside? There are a few scars, but nothing that really tells the story of the accident on my body. How is that possible? Why am I spared? There are days when I feel that I should carry the scarlet letter A on myself, for accident.
I’m scared to meet new people because I don’t want to answer the question about how many children I have. It feels wrong to not mention Benny. It’s easier when people just know, although if I have to listen to another person ask me how I’m doing, I might scream. How do you think I’m doing 8 months after watching my son die? I know they mean well, it just gets tiring. I’m tired. Of all of this.
8 months and I’m still numb. 8 months and I still don’t understand.
I was blessed (and still am) to have disability kick in so that I can take time off of work. I came across this petition on another bloggers site and feel that it’s important to push this forward. Losing your child is like losing a physical part of your body. Would you be back at work so quickly after losing a limb? Please sign, support and send along this petition. Thanks.
This year I’m going to do the Breast Cancer 3 Day – again. Over a decade ago I started this journey for my mother as I tried to wrap my head around why I had to say good-bye to her so early. I signed up by myself and took a deep breath. I wasn’t the type to take on something new by myself, so this was a huge step for me, but I was committed.
The most amazing thing happened during that first walk, I met some of the most amazing women. This feels like an understatement. I have spent the last 10 years walking, sharing, crying and laughing with these ladies. We created our own little family in which we raised our kids and continued to grow closer. These ladies and their husbands sat by our sides, held our hands while we cried in November and helped to take over arrangements. I cannot explain the type of bond we have formed. I am forever thankful for my BFF family.
After the accident, I debated not walking this year. My heart wasn’t really in it at first, I wasn’t sure if I could commit to the fundraising or training. I was so focused on what I had lost, yet again. It felt like so much in my life had changed, I wasn’t sure if I could do this walk again.
I know now that I NEED this walk. I need something to work towards. I NEED to not give up. I switched cities so that I wouldn’t have to face my fellow 3 Day walkers that are familiar with my kids and so that Tara could walk with me. It will be weird, to not be surrounded by my Boston 3 Day friends, but I’ve accepted it. It will be awful to not see Benny cheering me on in pink alongside his sister.
My kids are such a big part of this walk. As much as I do it in my mom’s memory, I always got involved because I was so scared that my kids might one day lose me to cancer, I never in a million years thought that I might lose one of them. I need to find a purpose again, to remember what I started all those years ago and why it’s still important to me.
It’s with a heavy heart that I walk this year. Will it be hard, yes, it will truly suck. I feel robbed again by life. This walk is such a symbol for my life now though, putting one foot in front of the other. http://www.the3day.org/goto/sheri2014