Writing my Pain

as time wears on and December 31, 2012 grows to be more of a memory to others, I know that more and more friends of mine think I should be moving on, the pain should be lessening.  I feel less inclined to write how deep the pain continues to be, how deep it will always be. 

there are those who think "stop wallowing for God's sake!"

I know it.  even if they do not say it.

I'm not wallowing.  I'm living it.  I'm struggling to exist each day because of it.  I get out of bed.  I take care of the other children.  I put on a "happy-ish" face. 

But the pain is deep. 

Out of nowhere, one day I will suddenly think of the fact that Nolan said his chest hurt the night before he died.  He said it once.  I asked him a couple of questions, chalked it up to his asthma.  I screwed up.  I cannot forget that.  That will NEVER go away.

Or there are the thoughts of the horrific morning.  They pop up.  (thankfully not as often as they did in the beginning)

Often when I am at church, the funeral and wake come to mind.  Today I cried as I thought how that is the last place I laid eyes on his human form.  I don't pay much attention in church these days.

So this is where I come to let it all hang out.  And if you think I should get over losing my child, well, stop reading.