Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is here.

My second without you. 

Most of the time I am just functioning, doing everything I have to do.  Then suddenly I feel tears because I see a picture of you.  I looked through pictures of your last thanksgiving. 

We were at my sister's house.  You and your little brother Logan helped uncle Bruce and your cousin chase to chop wood.  You loved to be productive. 

Today is the first time I will be at your Aunt Brenda's house since you died. 

I will see your ghost everywhere I am sure:  playing board games, eating turkey legs, watching tv in the living room, out in her backyard, her front yard, playing the piano. 

You will be missing.  You will be missed. 

I miss you always.

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.

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. 

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.

I forgot

I had completely forgotten that I started another blog on here that is to be stories of my sweet boy, Nolan.  my brain is just not the same.  losing a child is so tiring, draining, horrible.  I don't remember stuff often.  I should make a point of writing on there daily.  I miss Nolan so much.

Oh, I had a connection on another site tell me they hope that I just "get over what happened" to my son....  seriously? 

Here's the post I wrote in response.
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8998804-it-actually-happened

Will I Always Feel So Angry?

I wonder at times if I will always feel so angry.  I have such ugly thoughts at times.  Sometimes they are about me, my family, God, other people. 

I'm just filled with hate. 

On a photo that I shared on facebook much like the one I have attached to this post, someone wrote "He is always with you."  And my first hateful thought was, NO HE IS NOT!  HE IS BURIED IN THE GROUND! 

such darkness permeates my being.

And it has aged me.  oh it has aged me. 

And I have gained weight.  I look at myself and cannot believe how horrible I look.  I feel like the ugliness of my soul is showing in the ugliness of me nowadays. 

property of me.

Fall Photos without my Son

On Tuesday, we went to Loose Park to take annual fall photos of the children.  The first fall that I took pictures was 2000 and my son, Nolan was just under a year old.  I remember taking just a few shots of him amid the beautiful colors of the fallen leaves from the nearby maple tree.  He sat upon a black bench holding a leaf.  I didn't really think of the fact that I was starting a tradition.  I was just there, a new mom, with my beautiful beloved child. 

Fall of 2014 would have been the fifteenth year of photographing my children in the lovely autumn setting. 

I skipped 2013.  I didn't necessarily plan to skip it.  I still wanted to keep the tradition because I know that is important for my other children.  But I skipped it because Nolan had died. 

Nolan died on December 31, 2012 sometime in the middle of the night because his heart had been infected by a normal, run-of-the-mill virus. 

When fall of 2013 rolled around, I was suffering immense anxiety and grief, of course, over the loss.  Time got away from me.  We skipped the tradition.

So we dressed up on Tuesday for photos.  Upon arrival at the park, I noticed that many of the leaves were still green.  The lovely fall colors were not to be seen, but we were there.  As our busy schedule makes things like this difficult, I moved forward with the tradition.  It's still fall.  The kids are still beautiful.  I still took photos.

It was difficult to do so without my sweet child.  I was sad.  I was angry.  I yelled at my twelve-year old son because he was misbehaving and I thought he should be understanding that this was tough for me. 

2012

2014

You are beautiful

I was looking at some old photos today from one of our trips to Florida.  You always had such a beautiful smile.  You always had such enthusiasm for life!I wonder if I will ever not hate God for taking you.  It's a really sorrowful and dark feeling to have. 

 

 I will never understand this.  Never.

I miss you so much Nolan. And this is not fair.  It sucks and makes me want to use some really foul language right now.

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. 

Why God?

Why did YOU take my son?  Why?  It's not fair. 

I miss Nolan with all of my heart.  And I'll never hear his sweet voice again.

I just don't know if I will ever feel a trust in God again. 

I can't cry....

I need to ask the doctor if that is an effect of the medicine that I am taking.  Because, seriously, I haven't been crying.  I feel like crying.  But I'm not crying.  Perhaps that's ok for the short-term.... get me through this tough holiday season.... because prior to taking the meds, right as the holidays started, I was a basket case and could not stop crying.  I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown.  So maybe it's ok.  but crying often helps relieve me.  and hell, Nolan is my son, I want to cry about him.  I mean, well, I want to hug him and have him here.  I want that day from nearly a year ago to be a dream.  I want to wake up.  but if it has to be real, then I want to cry about him.  I feel like i'm not honoring him lately.  I keep my mind as busy as I can.... I don't think of him nearly enough.  oh Nolan.  how can you be gone?