Today is the day … the day that I thought I missed a few months ago. My son died one year ago today. I have no clue what I’m supposed to be feeling. In fact, I sort of feel nothing. It’s a weird sort of morning as Jaden is still sleeping and just the babies are up. It’s raining and thunder storming. I don’t think I feel any different.
I thought I would … feel different. I thought I would wake up and have some kind of distinctive emotion. But I don’t. I feel like myself. No closer to tears than any other day. Still not angry with God. It’s weird.
We’ve planned a day with our immediate family. It was the one thing that got us through last week and what I miss the most – having our families together. We sat like hamsters, all on top of each other, in Owen’s small hospital room. We shared chairs, laughed together, eat together, took care of one another. There were as many eruptions of laughs (usually from Doug and his brother making fun of Sherri, their sister) asthere were tears. I would give anything to go back to those five days in the hospital. So we are going to try to recreate it, just for one day. All of us in one house, for the entire day.
I know the magic won’t quite be the same. I know the Holy Spirit is still here, but it’s not the same. There was something magical about room 514. And maybe it was Owen. He’s the missing key. It won’t ever be the same, but Owen will never be on life support again. I’ll never see his face again. There won’t be someone stationed by his bedside at all times, playing with his chubby little hands and feet. That part we cannot recreate for today.
So to sum it all up – I feel weird, my family and I are going to spend the day together, and I don’t know what I feel, so I feel weird. I still can’t believe it’s been an entire year….
Love, Mel