Random thoughts

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies, fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die. I can fly my friends. "

----The show must go on, Queen (Tonys fave band)

"I don't want to die without any scars"
and
"It's only after we've lost everything that we are free to do anything"

--------- Fight Club (Tonys fave movie)

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I am grateful for my faith. I am grateful for God's plan for each of us. I'm grateful for my knowledge of what comes after this life and where my son is. I'm grateful that while I have lost my son here, I haven't truly lost him.

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/04/grateful-in-any-circumstances?lang=eng#

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We have a food bowl for our cat - its on the porch railing so the dogs don't eat it. I keep seeing 2 cardinals come eat the food. One is quite dull in color compared to the other - so I figure they are male and female. I keep seeing both of them. Sometimes just one eats out of the bowl but when it flies off - the other one quickly joins. 

We came home the other day from eating out - and immediately saw in our chicken coop - that the cardinals had gotten inside and were trying to figure out how to get out. (the back of our coop is "open" - wire - not a solid wall so we were able to see). I got in the coop and left the door open and then tried to guide them to the door. They were quite frightened and kept trying to fly thru the chicken wire. Finally they both found their way out the door. It was kind of an interesting experience. 

Some people say cardinals are actually our missed loved ones visiting. I don't think it's Tony, but only because we have always had cardinals here. They are so bright and always capture my attention. Them, and the bright blue bluejays. Regardless - it's interesting to observe. 

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I was doing so good on the thoughts and sadness. Trying to be positivd. I hate the negative bc it makes the grief that much harder. Then I go to close my eyes and bam! All the anxiety and thoughts and sadness. I sure do miss my son. Hard to believe it's been 8.5 weeks. I drove by the accident site yesterday. I rarely drive that way so intentionally went that way. First time with just me driving. You can still see some skid marks.

I was thinking about the funeral. I wish I'd have taken more time to think about what to put in the casket with him. I remember a couple friends put momentos of theirs in there. I thought that was sweet. I think about when I was talking during the memories section. Ive tried really hard since it happened to be positive and remember all the good things. We have really worried about his young friends that have had to deal with this. But as I was talking, I started to get emotional.i remember one of his friends coming and putting his arm around me. Austin I think but honestly I'm not sure. That support and strength meant so much at that time when I was weak.

Anthony has some good friends. I regret that we didn't realize it sooner and take the time to get to know them before his death.

I sure do hate these long nights.

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I think I had my first dream of tony. I vaguely remember most of it. But he was back for a few days. Like, we knee he'd died and he'd come back to give us extra time. But he'd be his normal self when I'd try to take pictures and I had to tell him that I needed these pictures bc he was dead and we were going to lose him again. It wasn't sad. Most of what I remember was fun times like we always had. Like me telling him that was filled w laughter - like "come on dude! Focus! Let me do this! Haha".

I don't know what to make of it.

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I cancelled our counseling session this week. Steve and I had already talked about spacing it out - whether it's helping or not. He's not a talker. I am. I have to emotionally throw up to get some control back. To find some semblance of control at least. Holding it in doesn't help me AT ALL. I have to talk. I post a LOT on facebook. It seems to be how I process. People don't know how to respond to that. But i do it for me, more than anything else. I'm just not sure it helps though. It's not how Steve processes things; and the last 2 sessions I've ended up dreading going. The sessions turned out okay - but maybe if I'm' starting to feel like I don't want to go, I need to take a break. 

We tour Bo's Place next week. This is a grief support setup - various groups. One of them is called "Little Friends" - for 3 and 4 year olds. It's to help them try to make sense of something that they just don't understand. It's about an hour or so away though. But I guess the set up is - he and I will meet with the group (sort of mommy and me - or parent and me style), then he will go off with the little kids and the parent/adult goes off to their group. So maybe that will be helpful to me as well. 

Jason has been asking a lot of questions though. "Where is Bubba", "When is Bubba coming to visit me", "why did Bubba go to heaven" (and "I don't want Bubba to be in heaven"), "where is heaven" and "Is heaven in the mud where we put Bubba?" How do you help a 3 year old, who has very little to no abstract thinking processes, understand heaven - which is really an abstract concept? So I'm hoping it will help. 

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I survived Mother's Day. Nothing exciting happened. Church was hard, of course, but I went. A sister said I looked like I needed a hug - and then patted my knee and said "whatever is going on, just know it will get better." She didn't know Tony died. I told her. I'm sure she felt like crap. I feel like I'm constantly having to think about how *other* people feel. I ended up leaving the class early. It was too hard. I yelled at my family. I sulked. We went out to eat to get out of the house. It was miserable for me. I got a nap but it was fitful. Someone from church dropped off a sweet gift. I posted on my facebook - about mothers day. Just like happy mothers day, especially for those who have lost a child. I also told friends to stop for a minute, before griping about their kids, complaining they were forgotten or didn't get what they wanted or the kids were fighting or whatever. Just stop and be grateful that they are even there to fight, to make messes, to forget a mothers day card. I didn't survive Mothers Day gracefully. But I survived.

That seems to be how I'm plugging along. Not gracefully. Not elegantly. Grief is ugly. It's passionate and distorted, terribly powerful, and clumsy. It sneaks up on you and quietly consumes you. Or it jumps from behind the curtain and makes your heart freeze. It's screaming and shouting; pounding your fists; curling into a ball on the floor; crying from the depths of your being; anguish oozing from every pore. No matter how strong the faith - the depth of grief is determined by the love experienced and the loss that is left. My son is NOT lost forever - but in this time, in MY time, right now here on earth, my son is gone. My heart has been shattered into a million pieces and putting it back together and stitching it back up doesn't work. The pieces are now changed and don't fit right. Some pieces are missing. I want to stop the hemorrhaging of grief however - so I keep stitching pieces together in hopes that they will somehow fit, and slow the gushing. 

I miss my son with every fiber of my being. I can't go any time at all without something reminding me of him - or thoughts creeping inward. His role in our lives was so big and so deep and so powerful - that his absence is felt everywhere. I miss my son. My baby. My handsome man. I also miss my friend. The man he had grown to be - I enjoyed him as a friend as well as a mom. And I miss my friend.