Sometimes I have these moments where I say to myself “Did it really happen? Yes. Owen really died.” For real died. My mind stretches hard around the fact that he really is never going to come back. The mind warping thought of life actually leaving a body. There is something incredible about it. Never. A human has never experienced never or always. When they leave this world, time still goes on. Their lives here end before they reach never. Never coming back. I don’t feel like I have the capacity to really understand what never is.
Life leaving a body. It’s so real, yet something that I really can’t put into words what it looks like or feels like. I often think of Owen’s eyes.
That was how I knew he was gone when I was doing CPR. There is that saying that eyes are windows into a person’s soul. It’s true. After the night of May 21st, I totally believe it. All life resides in a person’s eyes.
The thoughts catch me by surprise. He really is dead. I really am a grieving mother. This is reality. I am awake. This is life. Whoa. Weird.
It just doesn’t seem real at times. Not in the way that I don’t want it to be real. It’s not that I don’t want to accept it. But rather, it’s that moment when I just need to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming or something.
It can happen when I’m folding the laundry. Or walking down the hallway. Or maybe when I’m watching my DVR shows at night. Then suddenly I am questioning myself – am I really seeing this? Do I really feel this? Did it really happen? Yep. I had triplets … now I have two babies here with me. The third is dead. I have to say it like that -dead- to myself to know it’s for real. Saying “he’s with the angels” or “he’s in heaven now” almost seem to fluffy for the wake up call I need. Owen is dead.
I look at his face in pictures. I know that face. I just feel like I’m going to see it again. I stare trying to understand the concept of never seeing it again. My body just can’t understand never. I feel like I’m going to come home from the grocery store and he’s going to be on the floor just like my last memories of him. I can almost feel his head under my hand. His smooth hair on my palm. It’s conflicting how real my memories of him are vs how real it is that he is gone. The two cannot exist together, yet my thoughts are interrupted by both.
I’m holding strong though. There is so much to live for these days. There is so much to do, to accomplish. To rejoice in! My friends are having more babies 🙂 There is life all around me. I sing this song every night to the boys. This is the day that the Lord has made. Let me rejoice and be glad in it! Amen!