Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Yesterday was a tough day, it did start with an earthquake so that was certainly an indication of where my day was headed.
I used to love Saint Patrick's day and then I made the fatal error of choosing it to be our son's birthday. I really chose Wednesday and was told the week we had to have the C-section. Ever the planner and realist I had decided Wednesday had seemed like the perfect day. I would be home from the hospital for the weekend and my husband could keep working on Thursday and Friday so he could take more time off when I would be home and needing the help. When it turned out to be St. Patrick's day I thought, well everyone will be celebrating your birthday, you're part Irish, yeah, that'll be perfect.
Now I dread a day everyone celebrates. Sucks doesn't it.
Death is hardest for the ones left behind and it doesn't matter how long has passed it is not any easier. In fact it seems to hurt worse because no one acknowledges it was our son's birthday. Okay to be fair my father and one friend did ask how I was. I know it has been a long time since his death but did you think I forgot and if that you don't mention it that will be best. Don't want to stir up any unhappy memories.
I am infinitely realistic and also realize that he was my son making this far more important to his father and I than to anyone else and I should cut them all some slack.
The lack of acknowledgement leads me to feel isolated but it is I who bring this on myself by not ever telling anyone what is going on with me. I am tough, I can handle anything and I can do it alone. But does that make me a better person, probably not. I am tough though. I have survived much more than I care to think about but I want to do more than just survive and carry on.
I am going to push myself out of my comfort zone and start asking for help and share something that is actually meaningful and might be a touchy subject with my friends and see how it goes. I hope to figure this life out someday.