It's been a heavy week, and I'm weary.
Lots of struggles; little sleep.
And today I completely broke down at the cemetery and started yelling for the first time in a long time.
"How are you gone???"
And then I sat sobbing.
On Tuesday I picked up your balloons. Stuart is a little worse for the wear and is lying down, but Bob was still going strong. A draft last night caused him to jump out at me and I startled and laughed.
This morning I couldn't find him, and then as I turned the corner, there he was. In your room, floating about two feet off the ground. Tonight after work, he was just resting his feet gently on the floor.
Hanging out where you used to. Is this your way of nudging me?
Oh, I miss you.
I'm tired.
It hurts.
Tomorrow is one year since Lucy danced into heaven. Today is 78 weeks since I last saw you awake. And Monday is 18 months since you left us.
It's been almost two weeks since Jillie joined you, too. Having just turned 18, I thought she was one that would live almost forever. But on June 8th, she fell asleep and woke up with you guys. I don't know how to fathom this, and I know I only feel a tiny portion of the pain her family does.
Grief is ugly and painful and so, so hard!
And still, I will pay that price for the gift of having known you, loved you. And count myself blessed.
Oh, Aaron, give me strength...
Love,
Mama
"Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve."
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