Time Heals All Wounds?

When someone you love passes from this life to the Summerlands you start to count the passage of time in a completely different way.  At first it is one breath at a time, one excruciatng, heartbroken moment at a time.  Eventually it will be by the day, then the week, and finally a month.  But that first month after their passing seems like an eternity that went by in the blink of an eye.

When Jeremy died I marked the passage of time in such a way.  At first it was a week at a time, then it was one month after he died...two months...three months...six months...a year.  For awhile I went to the cemetary to "see" him every week, then every month.  Now I only go once or twice a year.  He is not there.

The first year is horribly excruciating.  It is the first year without your loved one to share life with. The first birthday without this person, the first holiday season, the first trip of the season to the beach or whatever it is you did together and enjoyed doing.  The joy just gets zapped out of your life. 

Nine years ago today I put my son's cold body into the ground and said goodbye for good.  I probably won't say anything to anybody about what today is to me, but my heart still hurts.  I do not want sympathy.  In writing this, I hope that someone whose heart is aching from a horrendous loss will find this blog and know that with time, it will get better.

When Jeremy died I dreaded the holidays more than ever before because it started with his birthday around the time of Thanksgiving.  Then winter comes and with the New Year the cold weather and darkness that have always sent me spiraling into some kind of seasonal depression.  Finally February comes along with the hope of spring to appear soon, the time of new life and new beginnings but also the time when I can kind of bring to a close the cycle of his birth, his death and his burial. 

The bulbs and seedlings are coming up in my yard now.  The trees are getting new leaves and some plants are blooming.  I am reminded of that never-ending cycle of birth, death and rebirth.

And I remember the young man my son was, I wonder what he might have been. 

It doesn't hurt quite as much now, but it does hurt.  Time took away much of the pain and even the memory of it, for which I am grateful.  But I will never, ever forget.

Peace,
Amy

Death Day

Today is  my son's death day.  There is no other way to describe what today is.  When we are born, we have a birth day, a day to be celebrated.  To say that today is the anniversary of the day he died makes it seems so meaningless when that day had a very highly profound impact on my family.  So I call it his death day.

There are two days that had the most profound impact on my life -- the day I became a mother through the birth of my son and the day he died. 

I don't want his death day to be filled with sadness and sorrow, although I am sad.  Time does not heal all wounds, it just covers them up and leaves scars.  I am blessed to have been Jeremy's mom and to have had him in my life, if even for a short time.  His sisters and I love him and miss him.  We remember the good times and the bad.  But mostly we just wish he was still here with us to share in our lives and living his own.





And so, today, I remember Jeremy's baby face when he was born, the joy of holding him and counting his fingers and toes for the first time, his baby smell and how he wouldn't go to sleep at night when he was a baby.  I remember him fighting with his younger sisters and protecting them at the same time.  I remember how he didn't like people to see him smile, so he hid it all the time.  He was both a pain in the ass and a sweetheart. 

Jeremy would have especially loved that Jaime married Mark.  He would have loved his nephews and nieces.  He would really love Dani's Misty and her family.

I would give everything I have to have my son back, but that will not happen.  I used to listen for his footsteps coming up the sidewalk rush to answer the phone hoping he would be on the other end and search for his face in crowds.  Now I see him in my dreams now and then.

Until we meet again the Summerlands, my beloved son...

Peace