"They say that time in heaven is compared to 'the blink of an eye'
for us on this earth. Sometimes it helps me to think of my child
running ahead of me through a beautiful field of wildflowers and
butterflies; so happy and completely caught up in what he is
doing that when he looks behind her, I'll already be there."
~Author Unknown~
"Angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are
gone."
~Author Unknown~
**********
I do this every year. I wake up and play the day, the last day I saw my 2 year old son, Joshua alive, over and over again in my head. Exactly twelve hours from now will mark 20 years since Joshua was killed.
Twenty years. Maybe if I say it over and over enough, my tears will dry up, the two Cokes I've already had in the past 4 hours will magically have never happened and the weight that I've gained over the last 20 years will just disappear.
I hate this time of year with an unfathomable loathing. It's deep and intense and reaches every single part of my body, mind and soul...and there is nothing I can do to stop it. This year though, it seems coupled with a sense of self-loathing that I haven't felt in a long time. Maybe I have? I don't know. Maybe for a the past six months I've just been covering it up with all of this positive self-edification talk that shrouded me in a sense of joy and feeling like I was going to actually be OK and make it out of this Hell alive. Then August hits and I slowly sink down...down...down into a very dark place where the ache never goes away and the pain washes over me in almost suffocating waves.
I want to eat and eat and eat and use that food as so much spongy, crusty French bread to sop up the olive oil of pain and anger and digust that coats everything inside.
There's been a new layer of fresh Hell added this year, involving something I'm not going to talk about (and please know that I hate it when other bloggers do this, but because it's one of my kids, and this kid is a minor, I refuse to discuss it.), but something that has just reinforced the fact that I am an abject failure as a parent. It makes this annual pain of mind, and especially heart and soul, so much more searing and almost blinding.
The most ironic thing of all is the fact that I have a lot of wonderful things to look forward to...but right now - right at this moment in time, I can't see far enough past the pain and blurred vision from eyes filled with salty bitter tears, to see anything positive.
Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning and instead of another morbid post, share one of those wonderful things with you...or maybe I won't get out of bed at all.
