grieving mother – Page 2 – Sunshine, Angels and Rainbows

12 Days of Memories-Day 9

Part of being a grieving parent is holding onto the old memories, while making new ones. Which is really hard when your child is gone.

Honoring and remembering our babies becomes the mission of the bereaved. We become the reminders of what is appropriate in grief and that there is no right or wrong way to walk along this path.

We remember Bennett on his birthday. We celebrate and sing to him every year. He was here and it’s important to us to celebrate his life.

We remember Bennett during the holidays. His memory is intertwined with ours and we make sure to hang his stocking and decorate his tree (thanks to an awesome suggestion by another bereaved mama). We do a 5K in his memory around the holidays every year.

We remember Benny on the day he died. We visit with him and take a moment to reflect on all that has happened.

We remember Benny by lighting candles on days of rememberance. We remember him in the day to day conversations and pictures spread around my house.

I never planned it this way, but we created new Benny memories without even knowing it. I know that he’s not here to be a part of it and that sucks. But he lived, and that life is so intertweaved with ours that his presence is felt daily.

12 Days of Memories-Day 8

Music has this uncanny ability to evoke emotion. Especially when I’m driving. I can be jamming out one moment and sobbing the next.

While I have many songs that remind me of Benny, Benny and the Jets is probably the one tied closest to his memory for me. We would constantly sing it to him. When we named him Bennett, I never anticipated called him Benny. It just kind of happened. It was never Ben, always Benny.

Whenever that song comes on I think of him. Sometimes I smile, sometimes I jam out and other times I cry. But every time I think of my crazy little dude.

12 Days of Memories-Day 7

I miss my adventurous boy. After having Darcy, who was so controlled and only willing to do something once she was 100% confident, Benny changed how I parented. He always had me on my toes.

I had started to refinish our kitchen table, so we had a folding table in our kitchen for a bit. I turned my back for one minute and Benny had climbed on the chair and onto the table and was be bopping. He needed eyes on him 24/7 because if there was something to climb, he would find it.

My little guy had more spirit and energy than anyone I had ever met. His little sister Perry is pretty close, and probably most resembles his adventurous spirit. I miss his little boy craziness.

12 Days of Memories-Day 6

So here’s a first. I put myself out there live. This is so far outside my comfort zone, but 2020 has been a year of firsts, so why not?

12 Days of Memories-Day 5

Since Christmas is in 8 sleeps (my kids are losing their minds as we count down), it only seemed fitting to discuss holidays. Bennett was just shy of 18 months old when he died, so we didn’t get many holidays with him. That part sucks.

My favorite holiday that we celebrated though would have to be his last Halloween. He was dressed up like a train conductor and he was just starting to understand how to walk up and ask for candy. There was one neighbor who had baby candy and Bennett held onto that candy all night. There were bite marks in the wrapper from where he tried to eat it. We still have that piece of candy. Because like so many other things, it’s just too hard to let go.

Your child could live 50 years or never take one breath, and the holidays still hurt the same. ❤️

12 Days of Memories-Day 4

What did your child cherish more than anything? Is there something that you have that reminds you of them? A picture, or an object?

Benny had a blanket. A simple white hand crocheted blanket that went everywhere with him. He was like Linus. He slept with it and dragged it with him. And I mean every where. I would have to steal it and wash it whenever possible.

After he first died, I slept with it every night. It took forever for me to wash it because I didn’t want to lose his scent. That blanket now sits at the foot of my bed. I try to bring it every where with us when we travel. It shows up in family pictures so that Benny is always represented. Now I drag it everywhere with me. ❤️

12 Days of Memories-Day 3

Ok. I may sound crazy, but maybe not to those of you that have lost children. Do any of you see your children? And by see I mean do you stop breathing for an instant when you see a child/adult that looks like them? Is it just me?

Benny had blond curls and blue eyes. And dimples. He was the most beautiful boy that existed. He had long dark lashes that were wasted on a little boy (says his mom with the stubby, blond lashes).

Every once in awhile I see a child that looks just like him. Him as toddler, him as a baby, or him as I see him had he grown up. And my heart stops. Because for an instant, it’s like he’s here. And maybe his death was a mistake. For a moment I get to pretend that everything is ok. And then it’s gone. But it’s all worth it for that brief moment.

12 Days of Memories-Day 2

Every day that I’m at the shop, I’m reminded of our little guy. Benny was a tinkerer and wanted to be in the cars and around the cars. He once went into our office and grabbed a random set of keys and asked to go into one of the cars, where he tried said keys in the ignition. Clearly it didn’t work, but we were taken aback by this one year old child who understood how to start a vehicle.

He was always listening. Even when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, he was. It blew me away. He picked up on everything. He also had a big sister he was always trying to keep up with. I miss watching his little brain process things.

12 Days of Memories-Day 1

2020 is really hard. Grief in 2020 is really hard. Parenting in 2020 is really hard. Parenting a dead child in 2020 is really hard.

So I decided to do 12 Days of Memories leading up to Christmas. Maybe it will make this final stretch into the holidays easier. Maybe it will make it harder. I have no idea. I just know that my grief needs some acknowledgement this year.

Day 1-Tonight was Compassionate Friends Candlighting for all of the Children lost too soon. What a perfect place to start. We lit our candles for Benny and all the other children I know whose parents miss them.

A wave of light seems like the perfect way to kick this off. Benny only celebrated one birthday. When I think of all of the candles that he missed blowing out over the years, it’s like a punch to the gut. We still still sing to him every year and celebrate his life. But it’s so damn hard. It’s hard to celebrate the life that you carried for nine months and all of the hopes and dreams that you had for them. It’s hard to realize that you only have the past and the memories to hold onto. A flame that shone so bright and was burnt out too soon.

Covid Grief

https://www.theverge.com/2020/4/1/21202122/coronavirus-grief-mourning-isolation-funeral-die-alone

This right here is exactly what I’ve been seeing and feeling. It’s really, really hard to miss my grief groups. I love that we can meet online, but I miss being in the room with my people vs. looking at them Brady Bunch style.

There’s just something about being able to put your hand on someone’s shoulder in a show of support. I miss my hugs from my special people that just seem to know when I desperately need them. I miss hugging those that hate hugs, but need them nonetheless. I miss losing myself when I’m in a room surrounded by other grieving souls, but knowing it’s ok, because here I am safe.

This too shall pass and we are one day closer to all being back together. And I cannot wait. Until then, I will see you all back on my screen.