"Grieving the loss of a child is a process, it begins the day your child passes and ends the day the parent joins them."

Friday, April 27, 2012

"Having One Of Those Days"

...was my reply to Paul's question of how my day was today.  He asked me, "Aren't they all, one of those days?" Sadly, we both said at the very same time, "Some days are just plain worse than others." And today would be, One Of Those Days.

I woke up this morning, not wanting to get myself out of bed. I had to, the dog wanted out. I dragged myself up, got dressed and headed out the door. As I walked the dog around the yard this morning, I was in awe of everything that has gone on in our lives the past 2 years. I walked the yard, and memories came flooding back. Of Brad, as a little boy and how he played for hours in the yard. I walked past his beloved truck. And my heart ached. He loved that old pickup truck of his.  And then the memories of Carly playing in her sandbox, which is till in our backyard - along with all of her other outside toys :( starting running through my mind. Dandelions in the grass, break my heart. She loved to pick them and then, when they were ready, she got a huge kick out of knowing she could blow them. Memories are good, but they are painful at times. Today was one of those times.

This afternoon I had to run some errands. I pulled into the drive thru, to do some banking and the  song below came on the radio. It's the song Brad's buddies picked to have played at his funeral. I sat in that drive thru crying my eyes out. I miss my son. I can't believe he is gone. I can't believe that we still have no answers. I can't believe we are a part of a  on going criminal investigation. I just can't believe any of this.

After the banking, I headed to the cemetery to visit both of my kids.  As I stand at their graves and I feel sick. Sick over what could have been. Sick over what should have been. Sick that I'm standing at the foot of the graves of two of my kids.

After pulling myself together, enough to drive. I headed to the grocery store. Which I HATE! Anxiety hits me hard while at the store. I've been told, it's very common with grieving parents. If I could order all our food online, I would avoid grocery shopping all together. I walk the isles like a freaking zombie..I forget everything I need. All I can think about is getting the heck out of the store and getting back home.

While driving home from the store, I find myself daydreaming. The events of  April 23 2010, play through my mind like it just happened yesterday. October 8 2011 pops into mind too. The phone call my girlfriend made to my cell phone to tell us of the fire. My constant, repeated calls to Brad's cell phone. Calling my brother, my friend and my parents..asking them to get to our house. Driving down our road and seeing the fire trucks, ambulances and police cars. They are a vivid and constant thought in my mind. I can play that night out like it just happened. These are not good memories. Not at all. But there really is no way around them. We have to go through them. And know that they will never leave us. The horror of both those days will live with us for the rest of our lives.

As I returned home this afternoon, I pulled into our driveway and this song came on the radio. We didn't play this song at Carly's funeral. I didn't feel "Party In The USA" was appropriate for her funeral. This was one of Carly's favorite songs. She called it the "butterfly song", due to the lyrics within the song.

Of course, my tears streamed down my face again. Oh my gosh, Carly loved this song. If it came on the radio while she was sleeping in the car, she would wake up almost instantly and start singing and bopping in her car seat. Without fail, she would wake up! It was pretty funny to see. Oh my gosh, I miss that sweet little girl.

Tonight, Paul and I are having a low key  night of homemade pizza and staying at home. I've cried enough today and I'm ready for this day to end. I'm so tired of having another, One Of Those Days.

**hopeful the video's posted right. This new way to post thing, has me a bit confused**


Cindy said...

It hits me the most when you talk of things that belonged to them. Brad's truck, Carly's sand box. I don't know, I never met Carly or Brad but it hurts to imagine their things not being used. For some reason it finalizes it for me and I ache for you. I hope tomorrow is better.

(I don't like the changes Blogger has made either.)

Sasha + Saku said...

I would not be surprised to learn that most of your days are "one of those days'. The tragedies you have faced would overcome most people.

The fact, that you and your husband continue with your lives despite the pain you so obviously feel is a testimony to your strength.

I hope someday there will be a resolution to your son's death.

Perhaps the songs you hear are simply a way for your children to reach out to you, to remind you that their love for you will never end, as does yours for them.

I hope each day gets a little easier for you.