Oh god I am a bad mother. I didn’t know how long it’s been since he died. I had to look at the counter at the top of my blog. That’s shameful right? Funny though, the hole in my heart is exactly the same, the sinking stomach dropping feeling that comes when you remember that he died and isn’t here any more. I wrote once that I was an Xavier-aholic, I still feel that way, like I could take a hit of him at any moment to cease my want.
So where am I though? Really? This is my third year participating in this, and when I wrote last years post, I was pregnant with our rainbow. I was still not sure I would bring a living baby home, and while the point of this project is to dissect where I am in my grief, I cant help but bring her into this. She lived. It didn’t make me feel any better about his death. I think I thought it would. While I knew it wouldn’t erase his death, or replace him or make me feel “better”, and believe me, her life has salved my heart like no other could have, but…he’s still dead right? And I still cry for him. I knew I would always miss him, always- (and I use the term ALWAYS in the literal sense, not poetic) love him, but I thought (and hoped) that the sadness would retreat, not all the way, but enough that it wouldn’t sneak up on me at least once a day. When I walk past his urn, when I see his picture in our kitchen (and the fridge magnets of him I had made), when I see her pointing at what appears to be nothing and giggle. I take a sharp intake of breath and it clobbers me…for a brief moment, and I am able to collect myself very quickly and continue on.
We are coming up to three years and I still CANNOT believe he died. It seems to be a common theme the further on you get in this grief journey. Disbelief now is different than that raw disbelief from the early days, that is shock than anything else, what I experience is this actual jaw dropping holy-shit- my-baby-died-how-did-that-happen-to-us-did-it-happen-for-real?, disbelief.
I miss him. I look at Scarlet and I wonder about all the things he can’t ever be. All the hugs and drooly kisses I will never get from him. So in all honesty, I pick her up and I give her all the kisses that should have been for him and I give her all the kisses that are for her too.
It’s not easier now, it’s just life…as always, putting one foot in front of the other, only now my legs aren’t as heavy.