I miss him so desperately.
I've found myself in the laundry room crying into clothes he left behind.
And sobbing uncontrollably on the couch.
And wishing each morning for his "Auntie Cathy, good morning!"
I feel a deep desire to move beyond this. To push forward (or is it backward?) and be the Mom I need to be. The wife. The daughter.
But the truth is, I feel as though I've lost a child.
And I can't just move on quite yet.
I find I am mad at myself. Angry that I was so naive to think I could do this without dying a little inside. Wondering if it would have been wiser to keep my distance.
But then I remember - I made a conscious decision to love him completely. And to trust God to heal my heart in the aftermath...
Of course, now that I'm here - in the aftermath, I wonder what in the world I was thinking.
Because this sucks.
I've worried about posting - because I know you've all said what needs to be said. You've offered your comforting words. I've heard them. And I believe them.
But it doesn't change the heartache.
I want you all to be comfortable.
So I apologize if my grief makes you uncomfortable.
But frankly - it's my blog. And I need to write my heart. Even when it's uncomfortable.
I hurt like never before. Because I loved a little boy completely. I gave my whole heart to him. My whole life for 8 months. My home. My food. My energy. I WAS HIS MOM.
And now he's gone.
So yes. It's uncomfortable. It's downright gut-wrenching. And I'm not going to pretend it's not.
I'll go through the rest of my life pretending, because I pretty much have to in order to function.
But I'm not going to pretend here.
Here is where I can be real.
Here is where I can cry out.
Here is where I can write and write and write and write until there are no more words.
Here is where I can let the healing begin.
But until then, I'm going to walk through this.
One post at a time.