Right about now, I should be planning a bash for a 4 year old, wavy haired little boy. I should be hiding gifts and making party favors for his little friends. I should have Nick Jr. program songs in my head and know all about the many new Disney movies and their interesting characters. I should be attending the family festivities in my community. It’s summertime. I should be taking our boy out to play in the sun and water. We should be adventuring like a family. He should be here with us.
Right about now I am thinking about our lease expiring and having to move on Jasper’s birthday. I’m making seed packets to give away at a remembrance event for grieving parents. The house is not filled with the sounds of fun tv shows or a laughing little boy. We sit here in the quiet and work til the day is done. We sit inside with the curtains drawn. No adventures are happening like they should have.
Well wishers tell us well wishing things… encouraging us to “move on, move past, get over” our son. Well wishers get out their well wishing silver markers and draw the lines all over it… “at least you did not bring him home, at least you did not really know him.” We’ve heard it all. We know how hard it must be for the outsiders to look at us, our lives void of meaning. So depressing isn’t it? Must be really hard for them to see us that way.
I would not go so far as to say that our lives are void of meaning. I can not show my son the world the way that I wanted to but I can show the world my son. I will never stop talking about him. I will never stop raising awareness for research. I will never stop raising awareness for grieving parents. I will never stop saying his name.
I know that the way my grief presents itself can be uncomfortable for people and all I can say is that I’m sorry that they feel that way. I will not be bullied or grief shamed into changing or pretending to make things easier for everyone else.
Right now, I should be planning a bash for my 4 year old son, Jasper, on his 4th birthday. We should be writing invitations and planning birthday games.
Instead, I’m making seed packets for a remembrance event in support of grieving parents. And… I am writing this. This is not how it should be.
- On Being Too Sad To Support Me In Celebrating My Son. - April 9, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors III: The Letter - January 26, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors Part II - January 24, 2018
Thank you