Thursday, May 24, 2012

Right Where I Am: Three years, one month, one week

Angie started this project last year.  I'm participating this year....Thank you Angie.  BTW, hope you do a VLOG again--I wouldn't miss it this time, I promise!

I miss my little man.  Constantly.  Not a day goes by when I don't think of him.  Sometimes I feel like I miss him more each day.  Sometimes I feel like it gets "easier".  The reminders, the triggers, are all the time. E.V.E.R.Y.D.A.Y.  I was at the park the other day with one of the kids' classes and was on the toddler playground with Owen.  Following him around everywhere, practically, because he's that kid.  He'd take a step off the top of the ladder just to see what happens, I'm afraid.  Or maybe I'm just afraid.  Anyway, a mom was helping her little boy up the slide and we exchanged ages of the boys and small comments about their outgoing personalities.  She said something along the lines of, "he's the youngest of three boys so he is going to have all kinds of bumps and bruises keeping up with and learning from his older brothers."  My brain stopped for a second. I had never thought of it that way.  Owen is the youngest of three boys, too.  I smiled to myself and agreed with the mom.  And a tinge of sadness settled in my heart.  The things Owen could be learning from Chase right now....

My uncle is/was deathly ill.  He's a heart transplant patient from over a decade ago, has recently had a kidney transplant (because that's what you get to look forward to when you get a new heart eventually) and unfortunately got a really bad infection in his system a week ago.  He was on the verge of death.  I was sad because I know my uncle pretty well.  I mean I grew up with him, even though I haven't spent much time with him in the last 15 years.  His health declined and my mom was talking about the issues they are dealing with.  Talking about what happens if he doesn't make it through his next surgery or the next one.  I was sad for him, until one day I found myself going through pictures of Chase I came across.  And the tears poured.  My thought was that he would get to see Chase soon.  That thought was comforting, but made me miss my boy even more.

So these are a couple instances as of late, but they happen all the time.  I am a happy mom.  I love my kids more than anything and can't wait until they get home from school.  I am so excited for summer.  But the cloud is always there.  No matter how sunny it is outside.  It's just how I live.  I heard someone say, "it was my worst mother's day ever."  And, though I was sorry for them, I thought of my worst mother's day ever--less than a month after Chase died.  I wish it wasn't like that.

I look at other 3-year-olds and try to see my boy.  I look at Owen, and see Chase just 20 months older than him and I imagine what he would look like, act like, sound like.  I miss him.  As much as I ever did.  But I am happy.  A happiness that took me a while to find again.  I can talk about him to strangers without crying.  I try to include him whenever anyone asks how many children I have, but not always.  And I never look at anyone without knowing that they have a story behind their shell, as well.  No matter how happy, how sad, how mean or how nice they are.  This I can thank Chase for.

I see my grief as a plateau kind of.  I have moments here and there of greater sadness and of course the holidays are bigger peaks.  But I am thankful that my kids and my husband and my whole family talk about him so much that his name isn't unspoken.  He's a part of our family.  Just as my grief is a part of my life.  It will never go away completely.

Linking up with Angie at Still life with Circles.  Thank you friend!

20 comments:

  1. Thanks for taking part in this project again, Christy. What you write about the constant missing and the grief plateau makes a lot of sense to me. Remembering you Chase with you and sending love.

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  2. three years ago, i couldn't imagine being able to say "i'm happy"; couldn't even bear the thought of someone saying i would find it again. but here i am, and i can relate to peaks and plateaus and knowing that grief will never completely go away--it's a comfort, really.

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  3. Oh, Christy, thank you. I related so much to your post, maybe because Lucia and Chase would both be three. I just loved what you said about never looking at someone without imagining a story behind their shell. That really is a gift of this horrible life, if there is any gift. And as Crystal said, the happy thing, it is so weird, but I am happy, even though I am sad she died. Sending love, and thank you again. Vlogging would be fun again. I loved that project. Sometimes I want to read every post, because I feel like my sarcasm doesn't translate well. xo.

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  4. I loved what you said about realizing everyone has a story. My midwife and I were discussing this a few days ago. Everyone has hurt and pain, we all walk around with broken hearts. Thank you for sharing, I love this post.

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  5. I also relate to the peaks and plateaus. So glad you shared with us all <3

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  6. I forget sometimes that everyone has a story, their own sadness and pain, not forget, but assume sometimes that others are lucky or immune. It doesn't always occur to me that on the outside they may be quite happy (as I am these days) but still hold the sadness and missing.

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  7. Oh Christy. I know what you mean, not a day goes by and the constant, constant missing and wondering. What they would have been like. I wish that Owen was learning from, and keeping up with, two older brothers.

    I also try to bear in mind that everyone has their story, tucked inside their shell. You never know what other people are going through at first glance.

    I'm sorry to read about your uncle, what a difficult time for your family. And yes, I am happy but the sadness never quite leaves me. I miss her so much.

    Remembering your beautiful Chase, such a lovely boy x

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  8. Thank you for sharing and for always providing a glimpse into your life of love and longing. Sending hugs, love and light.

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  9. Amazing how the happy and the sad can live so harmoniously together within us. Beautiful post.
    xo

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  10. The human body has an amazing way of holding such distinctly different emotions together within us, you state it so well... grief will never go away completely. When my Nana passed away (a month before I found out I was pregnant with my rainbow - 7/15/11) I thought... she is with my angels (I have three one being my rainbows twin) and while it was comforting I selfishly wanted them all here with me... but I was also jealous in a way that she was with them and I could not be. Now with my one month old rainbow in my arms I am in no rush to leave this world but it is hard to see him grow and change and to know I missed that with my other three children... I know that one day we will be together though and having that hope to cling to gets me through.... thank you for sharing... I am so very very sorry for your loss <3

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  11. I walk down this road every day it seems, the grief and the gratitude, always before me, a part of my fabric. Thanks for sharing your story.

    Peace and love to your beautiful kiddos,

    Josh

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  12. I'm so sorry about your beautiful little boy.. Thank you for sharing, thinking of you and Chase.

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  13. I recognised such a lot of this. A should-be three year old and a crazy, exploring toddler. Do I follow him because he's so exuberant or do I follow him because I NEED to be close to try and protect him?

    And this: "And I never look at anyone without knowing that they have a story behind their shell, as well. No matter how happy, how sad, how mean or how nice they are." It took me a long time to reach that perspective but yes, it's a gift to be able to think that way.

    Thank you for sharing Chase here.

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  14. There is a calmness here, I hope it's ok to say that? I recognise it because mostly that's how we are too, but there are days, sometimes just moments where it gets too much, mostly though life is calm and our Florence is part of our everday. x

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  15. "And I never look at anyone without knowing that they have a story behind their shell, as well. No matter how happy, how sad, how mean or how nice they are. This I can thank Chase for."

    What a legacy. That's simply beautiful. I think Chase would be so proud of you.

    I'm so sorry about your uncle. ((HUGS)).

    Remembering Chase ♥

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  16. " And I never look at anyone without knowing that they have a story behind their shell, as well.  No matter how happy, how sad, how mean or how nice they are.  This I can thank Chase for. " This. Me too. Thank you for sharing your perspective.

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  17. The bit that several other commenters picked out about the stories we all have behind our shells really resonated with me as well. I feel like I knew this before but I didn't really understand the full size and shape of it. Missing Chase along with you.

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  18. Ah the story behind the shell. Just the other day I was telling my friend whilst in church I was looking at a happy little girl. Then looked at her mother and grandmother and thinking. I bet they also have a story to tell. I then found out that they too have a little angel in heaven.

    big hugs

    Maria
    xxxxx

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  19. The story behind the shell, yep, that's how I look at people too. So sorry your little Chase is not with you.

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