Owen lived for 197 days … I have had OWEN written on my calendar over today and tomorrow since I did the math. This would mark the day that he’s been dead for as long as he’s been alive. I remember asking myself in prayer, what would it feel like when he has been gone longer than he was alive? Ironically … I did the math wrong. On 12/10/11 he has been in heaven for 198 days. I missed it. The scale has already tipped and you know what? I didn’t even know. It feels the same. There isn’t a magical switch that has been flipped.
What does that do for today then? I’ve been praying about today, anticipating what I was going to feel like. Contemplating if I would do anything special to remember him. I’m not sure how I feel now. I still feel a weight on my shoulders. A fear resides inside of me as to when I may or may not break down or freak out. I feel like I’m ok, but walking on egg shells. I could crack at any moment. Or maybe not at all.
Does it mean that I am free to be ok today? No longer bound to the harsh reality that TODAY is significant? A day that would only be remembered by a grieving mother? No clue. No freaking clue.
Today is today. Dec 12. Three days before we head up to Green Bay to celebrate Christmas with Doug’s family. Monday. Last night at our peer-to-peer support group before the holidays. The day more of the Christmas presents I ordered online come in the mail (hopefully). Laundry day. A day means so many things. A tangled ball of yarn. Unknowing of where one piece starts and the other ends.
I made sure to reconnect with the babies this morning. We practiced how to blow kisses, blow raspberries and played This Little Piggy Went to Market. I’m going to be forgiving to myself. Allow myself to feel what it is that I need to feel today.