So many times I have felt like the “joke” is on me. Only there’s nothing funny about losing a child or feeling like a fool.
Today happens to mark a point in time that I have painfully anticipated since losing you. When measuring the passing of time in days, this day is an equivalent to the worst day of my life. Today I have been without you for the exact number of days that I had you, yet you did not live your last day in it’s entirety and I in fact never even got to see you alive that day. It seems impossible to me that after today I somehow will have been without you for longer than I had you here. With this passing of time I miss you no less.
Over the last 18 months and 19 days I’ve often felt I was incredibly naive before your death. In so many ways I really was. I think of all the things I did in an attempt to be a good mother and how I just assumed those things would matter years and years from now. I tried so very hard to be a mother worthy of such a special son. The irony is overwhelming at times when I think of how hard I worked at making sure you only ate healthy foods and how I very strictly followed the advice of THE childhood feeding experts. You never even drank juice. I’ve often felt foolish for having a bedtime for you and a nap and bedtime routine even when it meant you and I missing out on something fun. I’ve often felt foolish for assuming you would one day need that Educational Savings Account your Daddy and I set up for you. I’ve often felt, oh so foolish for praying for your future wife and her family. The cynical part of my mind often tells me I am a fool for doing these and so many other things, that while important at the time were primarily done in anticipation of the future. I purposefully struggle to focus on the voice of logic buried somewhere deep inside my brain. The reality is even though being a diligent mother wasn’t easy, I did it because truly it’s what was best for you and I could have never known it wouldn’t matter in the long run. To me that's a big part of what being a good mother is about...doing what is best for one’s child even when it means making sacrifices and doing something that isn't easy or convenient. Although losing you has felt in so many ways like a twisted, cruel, sick joke, all these things I’d do the same.
Today happens to mark a point in time that I have painfully anticipated since losing you. When measuring the passing of time in days, this day is an equivalent to the worst day of my life. Today I have been without you for the exact number of days that I had you, yet you did not live your last day in it’s entirety and I in fact never even got to see you alive that day. It seems impossible to me that after today I somehow will have been without you for longer than I had you here. With this passing of time I miss you no less.
Over the last 18 months and 19 days I’ve often felt I was incredibly naive before your death. In so many ways I really was. I think of all the things I did in an attempt to be a good mother and how I just assumed those things would matter years and years from now. I tried so very hard to be a mother worthy of such a special son. The irony is overwhelming at times when I think of how hard I worked at making sure you only ate healthy foods and how I very strictly followed the advice of THE childhood feeding experts. You never even drank juice. I’ve often felt foolish for having a bedtime for you and a nap and bedtime routine even when it meant you and I missing out on something fun. I’ve often felt foolish for assuming you would one day need that Educational Savings Account your Daddy and I set up for you. I’ve often felt, oh so foolish for praying for your future wife and her family. The cynical part of my mind often tells me I am a fool for doing these and so many other things, that while important at the time were primarily done in anticipation of the future. I purposefully struggle to focus on the voice of logic buried somewhere deep inside my brain. The reality is even though being a diligent mother wasn’t easy, I did it because truly it’s what was best for you and I could have never known it wouldn’t matter in the long run. To me that's a big part of what being a good mother is about...doing what is best for one’s child even when it means making sacrifices and doing something that isn't easy or convenient. Although losing you has felt in so many ways like a twisted, cruel, sick joke, all these things I’d do the same.
Over the last 566 days I’ve often felt like such a fool for praying for your health and safety. I will for all of time remember the prayer I said at night right before I placed you in your crib, a prayer which included asking for both of these things. I’ve often felt like a fool for praying especially hard for (among other things) your health and safety during the upcoming year on your one New Year’s Eve after I quietly slipped into your nursery just at midnight. Little did I know that a short nine months later after seeing nothing alarming on your video monitor, but also seeing no movement, I would again ever so quietly slip into your nursery only to find the you I know and love was no longer there. I am haunted by memories and flashbacks of that moment, of discovering not you, but instead just the empty shell you had previously occupied during your time on earth. As if my slipping in quietly mattered. There would be no amount of noise that could wake you. What a fool I really was to think that if those requests for health and safety were prayed earnestly with enough desire and faith that they would be granted. Praying the way I did, that I would not do the same. Oh, I would still pray, but like I pray now. I do not expect God to intervene in my life in a physical manner. My prayers now are focused on asking God for things like peace, comfort, guidance, wisdom, and grace. I tell God as my Heavenly Father and friend what I hope for and dream of and I thank Him for all I have, but when I’m petitioning God for myself or for others it's for something of a spiritual nature. Placing my faith in some grand plan based on misquoted Bible verses (ex. Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 8:28) that have been taken out of context in the trendy, feel good way that is so popular, that I would not do the same. Your death didn't happen for some mysterious reason that will all make sense later. Oh, I would still have faith, but the kind of faith I have now. A faith that can withstand and endure even in the face of tragedy, a faith that is rooted in assurance that God’s grace truly is sufficient, a faith that is not blind but rather is the result of prayerful and diligent study, a faith that is based on sound doctrine, a faith that is not stagnant, but rather is continually growing, a faith that rejects distorted, deceptive philosophies even if they are trendy. I would have never considered myself spiritually apathetic before your death, yet looking back I'm ashamed that I so blindly followed the Christian “in crowd.” Not figuring out for myself what I believe, that was foolish.
In so many ways you feel so very far away. One of my fears is becoming a reality and will continue to become more and more real with the passing of each day. You are slipping further and further away from me. The only comfort in time pushing us apart in the past, it’s that it’s also pushing us closer together in the future. For hoping for and eagerly anticipating that, I could never, ever feel like a fool.
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