Little Man was so excited to break out the boots and snow pants for the walk to the bus stop.
The changing of the seasons seems to always get me. Any change gets to me. I've just been thinking about Jameson and crying a lot lately. I can't even make it through church without breaking down. Every.Sunday. It's like being at the soccer field all over again, trying to cry discreetly in the pew. People must think I'm a lunatic. Part of it is the preggo hormones, I'm sure. But that isn't all of it. I just miss my boy. And this first snow reminds me of the snowy days last year. Looking out the PICU windows and seeing a white Minneapolis. Driving to the hospital and trying to stay on the roads. Being cold and tired and scared all of the time. It was a particularly harsh winter to begin with and with our added fears, sleep deprivation, stress, etc., it was too much and I really don't know how we made it.
Winter is also a reminder that we are coming up on the one year anniversary. I've found myself looking back at pictures of Jameson in the hospital and missing that time. But I can't really miss those four months, can I? I can't really miss the agony of watching him suffer and decline. I can't really miss the stressful time of always being away from one of my boys. I can't really miss the couch sleeping, the bad coffee, the cafeteria food. Can I? Of course I don't. But I miss my J and I'm selfish enough to wish he were still here- even if here still meant the PICU.
But he is gone and we are left trying to navigate this uncertain and broken future. It seems at least once a week I come across something that I just don't know how to handle. Like Christmas cards. And family pictures. How do we ever have one ever again? I can't handle thinking about my family without him in the picture. And do we still hang his stocking? Does Santa still bring him candy? They seem like such silly little things and maybe they are, but I don't know how to figure out what is right for us. I'm not looking for answers; we have to find our own way through this stuff, but it ain't easy. Just for the record, after you've lost a child, the holidays totally suck. All of them. And the coming weeks with all of the thankfulness and Christmas cheer will be even harder than August and September were.
I don't know how to make a smooth transition from that. I'm sorry if I sound like such a Debbie Downer. Because I'm not unhappy. I don't cry all of the time. I still laugh and smile and enjoy life. I am just emotional and missing my sweet boy so much. But I am still excited to cook a turkey next week and have family up to eat and share Thanksgiving with us. To make gingerbread houses and decorate a tree. And I'm very excited to cry my way through Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. And watch Little Man open his gifts. And be with family to celebrate the birth of Jesus. But, (here is my broken record line)it is, as always, bittersweet. And it always will be.
However, now it is time to do the dishes, get started on the bread for dinner, and make some soup to warm our souls and bodies on this cold and snowy day. Hopefully it will be as good as this carrot soup and kale bread were last week.
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