My relationship with grief? Hmmm…I wish that I didn’t have one. I wish that it didn’t take over every facet of my life and my identity. I wish that November 8th, 2013 was like any other day. Except it’s not.
It’s as if someone threw a boulder into a lake that started a huge ripple effect. I hate what it’s done to me and my family, it’s made my life small, it’s made me small. I still feel such indescribable anger. I want to lash out at the Universe that did this to us. I’m mad, sarcastic and apathetic most of the time. It’s gross.
I’m sad, a lot. I still cry, a lot. I beg for this all to be a horrible dream. I miss Benny so much some days that it’s like a physical pain. I want him back so badly.
I’m hopeful. It might seem kind of odd to say that, but it’s who I am. I have this intense desire to always make the best of everything (even I cannot make a ‘best’ out of losing my son). I’m hopeful that I get to spend the rest of my life with Parker, watching Darcy grow up. I’m hopeful because we live in a world of ‘Greg Hills’ and ‘Pebbles & Polka Dots’ and all of the other amazing people that have made it their mission to show us love and support.
I don’t truly know where I’m at in my journey. We are marching toward the one year anniversary and I still can’t even fathom that Benny’s gone. In May of 2015, he will have lived as long as he was gone. How did time pass like this? I didn’t notice.
Sunshine, Angels and Rainbows 
so true about the “making the best of.” there is no “making best of” your child dying. all I can say is if my child had to die, I am grateful that xyz happened. and even that doesnt feel quite right
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Nothing about it feels right. It’s just not natural to bury our children.
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