Recently a friends daughter passed away. She was 2.5 and it was sudden. These two facts were close to Tacen. He was almost 2.5 and things with him were sudden. It really brought back memories of his last week and the week of the funeral. It took me through memories I hadn’t thought about in a while. It’s funny how grief does that. You don’t think about parts of your loved ones passing, but then it can all come crashing in. I thought about being there with him holding him and singing I am a Child of God as he passed away. The immense peace that filled my soul helping me to know it was God’s will. Yet the heartache of leaving the hospital without Tacen. Going home and him not being there and having to pack to fly home for his funeral. I thought of that week and how it honestly mostly feels like a blur. I remember gathering pictures and videos for a slide show Sue put together. I remember going down to the mortuary after his body had arrived from TN. Thankful it got here in time and dressing him for the last time. Then I remembered his viewing and funeral. I remember being strengthened on Friday night during his viewing and knowing that the strength was not my own. I also remember how much more emotional I felt on Saturday during the viewing prior to the funeral. I remember our dad’s speaking. My mom giving the eulogy and I remember speaking. Then I remember hearing Daxon screaming out in the hall (Thanks goes to Gail Gardner for taking him) and I got him. I remember walking right back up to the front row and nursing Daxon. All these thoughts and more filled my mind and my heart ached for my friend. I vividly remembered the loss like it was current. I always said I’d never wish losing a child on my worst enemy let alone someone I know and care about. It also reminded me how grief comes in waves. I am reading “After You” by Jojo Moyes. The main character Louisa is taking to Sam whose sister had recently passed away and says, “...’How long do you think it takes to get over someone dying? Someone you really loved, I mean.’ ...Sam’s eyes widened just a little. ‘Whoa. Well’—he looked down at his mug, and then out at the shadowy fields—‘ I’m not sure you ever do.’ ‘That’s cheery.’ ‘No. Really. I’ve thought about it a lot. You learn to live with it, with them. Because they do stay with you, even if they’re not living, breathing people anymore. It’s not the same crushing grief you felt at first, the kind that swamps you and makes you want to cry in the wrong places and get irrationally angry with all the idiots who are still alive when the person you love is dead. It’s just something you learn to accommodate. Like adapting around a hole. I don’t know. It’s like you become . . . a doughnut instead of a bun.’”
This is something I wholeheartedly believe! I remember Becky Gilbert telling us that “the hole in your heart will always be there, but with time the edges will soften.” This statement is so true! It never goes away. A piece of me is always missing! I always long to have him here with us. I always notice that he’s not here, but it’s not as crushing as it once was. I’m learning to live with it!
I can truthfully say that I am thankful for the things that losing Tacen has taught me. I am beyond grateful to be his mother, but most of all I am grateful to know that he's still mine and someday I'll be with my sweet boy again!
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