Showing posts with label Nolan Connors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nolan Connors. Show all posts

Friday, May 15, 2015

You Lived

This post was originally written on Bubblews by me on July 2, 2014

 
More words inspired by my son Nolan.

You Lived

You lived among the trees
You climbed, scaled, swung
You perched and watched

You lived among the birds
You studied, observed, listened
You fed, you knew

You lived among the woods
You hiked, tramped, camped
You sweated, you itched

You lived among the soccer fields
You ran, kicked, defended
You sprinted with reckless energy

You lived among the world of art
You sketched, painted, wrote
You created pieces of yourself

You lived among our family
You acted silly, laughed, smiled
You loved and you are loved always


Photo Credit: My own
+Poetry +Grief +Grieving


Sunday, November 30, 2014

Sometimes I Don't Want it to get Easier


 Sometimes I think it is wrong to feel ok.  Sometimes I think it is wrong to smile.
Saying it is better is like saying it is ok that Nolan is gone. 

 Getting used to it is like getting used to living without a heart, a brain, lungs, limbs, and more. 
 Life without my son is never going to be ok.  Never.  Yet I must live on.  I must keep on.
 When I see his beautiful smile, his face lit up, his zest for life in photos, it is a reminder of what is lost.
 I'm grateful for my photographs of him, but they just emphasize the horror of our loss.
 He should be here.  We should not be here without him.  He should be here.
 Yes, two years later and I am still a broken record.  I still have a broken heart. 
 Not all broken hearts mend. 
 The broken heart of a bereaved mother is broken forever. 
 So it shouldn't be better and it really can't be. 

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Pictures of You


I'm thankful for photographs of your beautiful face.  How I wish I had more.   There are days when I am looking through old pictures and I notice one with you in the background.  I get to see an expression on your face that I haven't seen in nearly two years. 
 Even the blurry photos of you are meaningful to me.  I have on on this post that is blurred, but it is you in the middle of being silly.  I look at it and want to see you act silly again. 
I do not know how anyone could ever think that a mother gets over the loss of her child.  I've heard the words "letting go" and "moving on" too many times from people who have never lost a child. 
People have often said how lucky I am to have so many photos of Nolan.  It's true.  I do feel grateful to have so many pictures of his beautiful face.  There are moments that I look at them and suddenly it hits me that the photos are all that I have.  I'll see his sweet smile and suddenly feel sick to my stomach.  I'll remember that he is gone

It's not that I ever forget that he is gone.  However, some moments I am actually in the moment of what is happening in the here and the now.  Then a physical feeling overcomes me.  I am not sure how to describe it, but it is an actual feeling that my body experiences.  It is sort of like a chill that travels through my entire body, often originating in my stomach, and it has a hint of nausea to it.  Then it reaches my throat and sometimes it makes it hard to breathe.  Other times it makes me feel like throwing up.

Two years later and I still experience this often. 

A grieving mother does not get over it. 

She learns to live with it because she has to.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

I Wish He Could Enjoy These Things

I wish Nolan were here. 

I always wish Nolan were here. 

I think of him all the time. 

He should be here to enjoy life with us.  I remember how much we were enjoying our sunroom before he died.  Just a few weeks before his death I had bought a couch and tv for the sunroom.  I wanted it to be a great place for the kids to hangout with friends.  I still had hopes for fixing the basement, but wasn't sure when that would happen. 

We were rapidly outgrowing our little three-bedroom house with our five growing kids. 

Oh how I would love to be that crowded again!



About a year after Nolan's death, I started to work on the basement.  I rented a huge dumpster and decluttered like crazy.  Then I painted walls, I painted the floor.  Next I hired someone to put up a couple walls.  After that I organized, bought carpets, bought furniture.  I even bought a small pool table.  The basement became a wonderful space for the children.  It nearly doubled our living space.

Now I am open to parties, to sleepovers. 

In the last month, I have hosted a first communion party, a birthday party, a slumber party, a sleepover, and a baby shower.  All in a month. 

Our house has felt festive, full of laughter and noise and friends.

I think of Nolan and his beautiful personality.  He would be loving the social life we have been having. 

I wish he were here. 



Thursday, November 20, 2014

He's Officially Older

Today is a day I have dreaded.  Today Liam is officially older than Nolan ever became.  Nolan died 9 days after his 13th birthday, somewhere in the early morning hours.  We don't know the time.  They never told us.  It could have been 12:30am.  It could have been 7:30am.  We don't know.  Would it help if I knew?

Anyway, today is nine days since Liam turned 13. 

He's already bigger than Nolan ever became.  He already has started puberty and I don't think Nolan had.  He was probably close, but he didn't have any body hair.  Liam is covered in hair and has already shaved his teeny mustache a couple times. 

Nolan is frozen in time as my sweet thirteen year old boy. 

He will never grow older.

He will never kiss a girl.

He will never marry.

He will never fall in love.

He will never become a father.

He will never go to a college party.

He will never learn to drive.

He will never go to high school.

He will never wave goodbye to me as he leaves for college.

He will never get a first job.

He will never hug me again.

I miss him so much.  None of this is fair. 

Monday, November 10, 2014

Guilt

Sometimes I feel guilty. 

I find myself smiling, laughing, genuinely enjoying myself.

Or like, just a bit ago, I was singing a Christmas song.  Christmas has always brought so much joy and happiness. 

When I lose myself in a movie, a book, a bottle of wine. 

I feel guilty.

I am aware of the need to keep moving.  I am aware that I have other children.  I am aware that "life goes on."

But there is guilt in that life that still lives.

There is guilt that I missed something and my son died.

There is guilt in good times.

I know that Nolan's wonderful spirit would want us to be happy.  I know that he wouldnt' want me to wallow in my sadness.

I know that. 

It doesn't change how I feel, how empty our world is without him.  It doesn't change that when I laugh, I think to myself that he should be laughing too.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Too Much Information

I'm not sure what this person was thinking.  Well, actually, I guess I sort of do because it is a place to let it all out (our grief, our pain.). 

I have this Facebook group that I joined for people who have either lost someone from Myocarditis or who have suffered it themselves (and survived.)   Mostly it is folks like me who have lost someone.  More often than not, people do not survive because there are such vague, easily missed symptoms.

A couple weeks ago, I posted a question asking other members how many of their loved ones had actually died in their sleep without warning like Nolan.  This post has had an enormous response creating quite the thread.  Most were told, like me, that he most likely simply died in his sleep peacefully. 

You know the fears I have, right?  Fearing that he awoke, scared.  Fearing that he suffered, afraid.  I have imagined that for these 678 days with such agony. 

Yet, everyone says, he was peaceful.  He died in his sleep. 

This woman commented on my thread today.  The spouse of her married adult son was in bed with him when he awoke in the middle of the night.  He bolted upright in bed making gurgling sounds before falling over in a slump. 

Now I am imagining this for my sweet Nolan.

His bedroom is next to mine.  The night he died, I thought I heard a few noises in our hallway or something, but we have pets.  So I often hear things.  He was found in bed on his stomach. 

I won't ever know, but now I have a new horrible image stuck in my head. 

I wish this other mother would have thought about that before sharing so much information, but I also understand why she did. 

The whole thing sucks, for me and for her.



Saturday, November 8, 2014

677 Days

Today has been 677 days without my precious Nolan.  I have such a hard time wrapping my head around that still.  Yes, I have accepted it.  I have no choice as it slaps me in the face each day.  I may have to live with it, but I still hate it with every fiber of my being. 

Here's a poem I wrote today as I thought about the last two years.
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9336739-677-days-a-poem

Friday, November 7, 2014

Another Post Titled Thirteen....

Shortly after the loss of my precious son, I wrote a post on here titled Thirteen. 
http://thesorrowful.blogspot.com/2013/02/thirteen.html

It seems impossible that I wrote that nearly two years ago.  How can it be two years since I lost him?   Two years since I kissed him goodnight and watched him walk down the hallway.  The last time to watch him walk down the hallway.

Tonight I wrote a post on my other website about my twelve-year old turning thirteen next week. 
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9325821-thirteen-isn039t-going-to-be-easy-on-me

And I thought how tough THIRTEEN is for me now. 

And I wonder if it is going through Liam's mind that Nolan died right after he turned 13.  Liam is already a worrier.  Is he worried?  Is he scared?

Why do we have to suffer this nightmare?  I still do not understand.  I don't have the faith to understand. 

Sunday, July 6, 2014

This is my place to cry

This blog is where I vent, scream, cry, yell, whine, scream, cry, scream, cry....

I don't write my happy thoughts here. 

I write about how I see a picture of Nolan and I cannot believe that is all I have left.  I write about the ache I feel inside and how it isn't any better.

I have another place I write where I try to share happier thoughts.  This is where I show my sorrow.  I put on a "happy" face for the world and at times it is truly exhausting.  so I come here where I can take off the mask.  I take it off and I cry, scream, vent. 

Nolan's death is the most unbelievable, horrifying, cruel thing that could have ever happened. 

And I am still in a living hell because of it. 

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

unbearable thoughts

I hear story after story of mothers who have lost more than one child.   I fear that happening to me.  I go to bed every night fearful.   I am so scared, not only of losing another child, but of finding anyone else dead.  the thought of that terrifies me.  I don't know how to cope.  the fear is overwhelming. 

why did this have to happen to us?

I know I sound like a freaking broken record, but I just don't understand. 

why?

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Crying More

I'm relieved to be crying again.  I was taking some Zoloft for awhile to help with anxiety and instead it was making me a zombie.  I am a crier.  That's me.

I have been sad a lot, of course.  But lately, these things have made me sad:  1) yesterday was memorial day.  I remember going to the cemetery with my parents as a kid visiting old people's graves.  that's what you should do on memorial day.  not visit a child's gave.

and 2) today I took logan to the children's mercy orthopedic clinic.  I had completely forgotten about taking Nolan there a few times for scoliosis.  I was crying when we were waiting once it hit me.  the last time I was in that clinic was with Nolan.  a few years ago. 

losing Nolan just sucks and hurts and is hell and just can't get better.  how could it?

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

The Other Day

The other day, someone said to me that they were so happy that I was doing so much better.  I thought to myself, wow, I must REALLY be putting on a happy face for the world because I am NOT doing better.  I'm more sad, hopeless, and down than ever.  Yes, I'm sort of used to the fact that Nolan is dead.  But not really.  Sometimes the reality hits me out of nowhere, like today.  I was driving and it hit me, for the thousandth time, that I will never see him again.  never.  it's so f...ing final. 

This is hell on earth.

yeah, i'm not doing better.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

I just can't get it together

in my head, I can't help but compare the other kids to Nolan.  it's not fair.  this is making me a worse mom!!!!  I have had so many people tell me how what happened to Nolan has made them a better mom.  yet, me, the one who lost my son???? i'm a much worse mom now.  i'm angry and sad all the time.  I yell.  I disappear into myself.  this made me a worse mom.  how can there be a God when this stuff happens?  There is no reason for this.  there is no purpose to this.  i'm miserable.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The Day my World Stopped

December 31, 2012, my world stopped.  Everyone else just kept going, some of them sad, but their world was still moving, going. 

It has been 16 months, I think.  Funny how time has become so confusing to me.  I think I'm calculating this nightmare correctly.  16 months since my beautiful son died.  16 months since my world changed forever. 

My world is still stopped. 

I now have two lives.  One before Nolan's death when life was good and normal and happy and filled with ordinary pain and suffering and stress and things.  And the second life is post 12/31/12.  Post-Nolan.  How is it I lived 30 years without him before his birth, but living without him the past 16 months is unbearable.  Post-Nolan life is confusing, vague, nightmarish, void, bitter, painful. 

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Sometimes it hurts to look at your face

how is that possible?  but sometimes looking at pictures of you gets my heart hurting, my soul crying, my brain aching.  I look at those beautiful images and realize that is ALL that I have left.  I look at the ones from just days before your death and I think WHY DIDN'T I KNOW SOMETHING WAS WRONG????   now that I see them, you look so skinny.  of course, we had all been fighting a bug.  I didn't know such a horrible virus could kill my son. 
even though it hurts, I will never stop looking at your face though.  I need to see you as much as I am able.