This. This is so conflicting in my human brain sometime. How do I have faith that God exists while grieving a child? During the holidays amplifies all of it. I can literally be fine one second and questioning everyone’s very existence the next. Smiling and then thoughts settle in that turn that smile fake.
I do believe in God. Spirituality is confusing, but something I have to maintain to have any peace in my life. And these days I yearn for peace. Without spirituality how am I supposed to believe that when I dream of my son they’re real? I’ve only had those two dreams with him. And let me tell you….there was nothing more real. I don’t think my husband understood until this week. He NEVER remembers his dreams while I remember most of mine. We have talked about that often over the years. But this time he said he stayed awake afterward to ensure he wouldn’t forget it. He said our son walked into a room and said he was checking on how we were doing. My husband told him we weren’t doing well. He said it’s okay and that he was okay. My husband said that as our son left the room he turned back around to say “Chris says hello”. Chris is a friend of my husbands that passed a few years ago. The boys grew up with him as a sort of grandpa. Hearing my husband tell me that story a few days ago really gave me some peace. I made him repeat it a few times because it really made my heart feel better.
But as we talked about it he told me how it made him happy and sad all at the same time. He finally understood what I had tried to explain after my dreams. It makes you miss him so much more, but so happy that you had seconds with him one more time. And getting to hug him and hear him in your dreams is a gift and a blessing. Without spirituality how is this possible? I don’t think it is.
I was so happy that night and felt like I was getting through this holiday a little better. But as Christmas Eve progressed I started getting this feeling in me. The pit of my stomach just felt off. I tried to finish playing games with the kids and smiling through the rest of the night so it could be more of a normal Christmas for them. But, by the time I woke up this morning, Christmas Day, I really could feel it all. I felt all of the weight of missing him. I went for a walk with my husband and drug him around for 2 miles trying to feel better and more centered. We came home and I still wasn’t okay so I walked again another 2 miles. The rest of the day I have spent by myself. I am no good to anyone on days like this.
Days like this I sit in the quiet. I binge deep shows and think about my own feelings of the world and what the meaning of life is. Yes, I actually contemplate that but have no answers. Even with so many days spent doing this since he left us. All I do know is I want to be around my kids every chance I get and I pray they always make room for us because there’s not enough time left. But I’ve also been looking at photos of my son when he was younger and wish I could hug that kid again and tell him it would all be okay.
I know these days may not actually get better with time. I’ll never really not feel a piece of me missing. I can’t imagine that feeling. I allow myself joy, but there will always be some pain in there too. The kids are amazing and I hope they continue to grow through all of this. They wrote letters to us for Christmas and they were beautiful. Something we could keep, reread and hold onto forever. That’s the best presents they could possible give us besides their presence.
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