My baby has been gone for 23 months.
And I am barely getting to a mental place where I can start working on keeping his memory alive.
...SO freaking hard.
I just burst into tears driving home from work the other day thinking about my brothers wedding that occurred the same weekend we buried our baby, and how it had ruined his wedding.
I mean it didn't ruin his wedding, but having a death and burial in the family the same time as the wedding... I know it damped their special day, and everyone involved couldn't exactly whoop and holler with joy over their wedding without feeling like they were being horribly disrespectful to our family.
For me, Vincent is my Catalyst.
He changed everything. And everyone else has stayed the same. Not a fun place at all.... It's the kind of change no one wants. I can't go back because that would mean pretending like he never happened, and I can't go forward because that would mean moving on, and leaving behind. I'm more withdrawn than ever.. why the HELL would I want to be close to anyone? It just gives them immense power to cause pain?
I don't even tell anyone I've had 4 children anymore because I don't want to talk about it when they just don't get it.
I started this project the last day at Brave Girls camp. To me it isn't good enough. I'm not satisfied with it. I am SEVERELY temped to crumple up the wings really bad.
They should be broken after all.
I'm reminded of something Noah had said when he was about 5 years old.
Mom, People can't fly. Birds can fly, but people can't. Unless they are dead, and then birds can't fly, just like people.
People can't fly.
I miss you. xoxo
This is just one of those things I haven't come to terms with yet...
My baby doesn't have a headstone yet. At first it was a financial issue, now it's just an emotional issue. If there was a marker with his name on it... Well, I don't know if I could deal with that.
Thanks for reading.