... since May stole my only boy. As always, it feels like it was just yesterday and like forever. I will never not ache for my boy, I will never not resent May, who stole not only half of my heart, but my brother, and my precious granny that raised me, along with a dear soul we cared for to her dying day. Death month will forever be what May is called.
On May 17th, 2013, I woke up as a mom to two kids, a boy and a girl, in that order. I went to bed that night a mom of..... well, two kids, but... tomorrow I will wake up the mom that no one wants to be like bc my child died.
To this day, the question of, how many kids I have, throws me for a complete loop. It doesn't totally wreck me as it did in the beginning, but it's still so hard to answer because it's a present tense question. I HAD two, and now my youngest is an only child who is almost 10 years older than her older brother. Huh? Exactly. I don't go into that kind of detail, but it's what plays out in my head.
I was thinking about how triggering that must be to the loss mamas whose babies passed in utero or were born sleeping. When you go to different doctors, specifically the OB/GYN they want to put the numbers for Gravida & Para or pregnancies and live births in the chart, as it can be very relevant information. Having any difference in those numbers must just be so soul crushing, but especially the mamas who've suffered many losses. It would send me spinning out, quite honestly.
Speaking of being crushed, the sermon my pastor delivered today was on being crushed in spirit. He talked about how hard it is to continue to pull yourself up when you're continually crushed. Man, can I relate to that heaviness.
I had a really rough six years, prior to Brandon dying, including me keeping him alive with CPR, a little less than six months before he died. In the seventh year, the boy who made me a mama, and saved my life in the process, died. He saved me, yet I could not do the same for him. I tried. I understand that death may have actually been the saving for him, but that just isn't always a real comforting thought. You should not outlive your babies. Soul crushing.
Today, though, I walked outside and was struck immediately by the brightness of the sunshine and the happy choir of birds. I kid you not, darn near every 5/18 and/or 5/19 has been the most beautiful of days. At once, I felt a smile form on my face and sadness form in my heart. I chose to let joy win in that moment.
I saw the moon still awake and said hello, and then opened my Merlin app to see which birdies were singing for me and Brandon today. We had the Cardinal, Wren, Parula, Blue Jay, Tufted Titmouse, Starling, yellow-throated Vireo, and others. They showed up in full force, and I thought to myself how much Brandon would've loved it here. I know what he has is so, SO much more glorious, but what I'd give to experience this with him.
I have mentioned before how the sun really pissed me off for having such nerve on these days. Well, I now live in the land of eternal sunshine, so I'm gonna have to get over that during May, so I don't add anger to my sadness. I'm getting there.
I am OK. We are all OK. We are not who we were or who we'd have been if Brandon had not died, but because he was who he was, we rejoice in the time we had. Having Brandon made me a much better person, though I'm almost ashamed to admit that it was his death that really grew me as a person. I love people differently, I am so much more forgiving and gracious. I am not perfect, and I can sure cuss up a storm, but knowing he'd snicker at my inappropriate behavior somehow makes it kinda OK. ðŸ¤
#missingbrando
#untilwemeetagain
#ihatemay
#boywonder
