Snow Boots

Snow. There shouldn't be any reason to grieve when it comes to snow. Oh, but there is. I can't help but wonder what my almost three year old would think of something as ordinary as snow. My mind conjures up an image. I can almost picture him, bundled up, rosy cheeks, laughing as he waddles around. Almost. Not quite. It's fuzzy. Anyway, it’s only a fantasy. My thoughts turn to reality. I think of how he was too little to really enjoy the couple of snows we experienced together, although he did laugh out loud as my parent’s dog chased and dove for snow balls. It is real, a wonderful memory so it shouldn't be fuzzy, but it is. That adds another layer of pain.

Snow boots. For whatever reason my mind jumps to snow boots. There certainly shouldn't be any reason to grieve about snow boots. Oh, but there is. Curiosity gets the best of me and I check. Yes, there they are in the back of his closet. Untouched for the past 16 months. I remember correctly. They are blue. I hold them and clutch them close to me as the tears come. The familiar ache in my chest takes my breath so it's actually physically impossible to surrender to the sobs that seem to want to surface. He never wore them.  He never will. After what seems an eternity I catch my breath. I say out loud to no one in particular “It's not fair. It’s really not fair.” I wonder who I'm talking to and know God is the only one who can hear me. I feel a tiny wave of peace as I remember...He knows this isn't fair.

Secondary losses. Following the loss of my child, they are more than abundant, lurking everywhere, waiting to catch me off guard and bring me to my knees as the weight of the agony crushes me. Unless you know the depth of that truth with every aching fiber of your being (oh, how I hope you never do), you could never understand it. You could never imagine it. These moments, these reminders of the losses that occur in addition to the loss of my child can only be experienced and grieved as they come. And they do come. They always will, for as long as I live.