I'm sitting in his room looking at this picture so I thought I would add it. I love his sweet eyes--oh, how I miss them. I especially love this picture because he is chewing on his thumb--he always did that. I think that's why he had a tooth at 4 months old.I'm missing my little boy tonight. I miss the life I had before he died. I miss the joy and happiness he gave me. I've had a few days of not thinking or feeling to just survive. Now I'm having a moment to think again and it hits so hard--the grief. Today as I was getting some things ready for Activity Days I opened a cabinet in the laundry room and noticed I still had wash clothes and towels on a shelf for when I use to give Wyatt his baths every night. At that moment I had to decide to not think or feel so I could survive the day. Now I have the time to think and feel and it hurts. Just a few months ago I was his everything. I did everything for him. I miss doing those things. When I get into these moments I turn on beautiful church music. It always seems to bring the comforting spirit to me.
On Saturday it will be six months since Wyatt died. He has now been away from me longer than I had him in this life. My heart still has a hole in it and my arms ache to hold him again. To do all those things I did with him each and everyday. I miss the completeness I felt when Wyatt was here. The completeness of our family. I don't feel that anymore. I know he is still a part of our family and will be forever but their is a huge void in my life right now and I'm not sure how to overcome that. This is the reality of grief. It's a roller coaster of emotions that I'm trying to learn how to manage but it doesn't seem to go away. I guess it's time to start reading some uplifting words from the scriptures and from our living prophets. That seems to always help. I'm also going to the temple in the morning and that seems to help as well.
.JPG)
9 comments:
Oh Andrea, my heart goes out to you tonight... I'm praying for you, that you'll feel a warmth and closeness from heaven surrounding you through this dark night. I wish I could be there in person. We'll get through this together. I'm always here for you!
I have no words. I'm so, so sorry. The only thing I have to share is tears. I hope you can find some peace through this dark night.
Much love and hugs and tears.
Andrea, you truly help us all to see what is most important. And perhaps there's a mom out there in your circumstance that comes unto Christ b/c of your example of steadfastness. You are already my example, and I'm way out here in China! I'm so blessed to have found you! Wonderful you!
Wyatt is SO there. He wants to be close to you just as much as you want him to be close to you. Yes, he's busy, but I'm sure you are his top priority! :) Those holes are there for a purpose-- FOR WYATT TO FILL. While not in the flesh, in the spirit. The pain is helping you to learn how to tune in to his wavelength. I know you've felt his influence, and it is so personal to you. Totally indescribable, I'm sure.
I ran into a blog (tho' I can't find it now- shoot!) of a mother who lost her 18 month old in a drowning accident.
She, a few months later had a dream that the baby was standing in the room watching her. Just watching. And she was so touched that her baby was near by even though she knew when she woke up she wouldn't be able to see her with her physical eyes, she was there... regardless if she knew it or not. And she had always been there. How neat is that? Now if I could only find that blog again, I've been searching like crazy for you!
Have a "Wyatt" day,
Suzanne
All I can say is that we love you! There is nothing else you are "supposed" to be feeling. Just feel, through your grief, that your family loves you, God loves you, and your little boy loves you. Praying for you!
Hang in there and be gentle with yourself. Grief is really hard work and really physically painful. As a kid I couldn't fathom what Christ went through "bleeding from every pore", from emotional pain. I can now comprehend on a small scale how it would be possible to do that, because you hurt from the inside out. You can't put a bandaid or neosporin on your heart to make the owey heal in a few days. It is a rollercoaster and just be patient with yourself. The rollercoaster slows down, I promise it does, but don't try to shorten your ride, you have to ride it sooner or later. Sooner is better because it's when you still have your support group. Lots of love thank you for sharing Wyatt with us.
I wish I could take some of the pain for you! I am so sorry! I hope your temple trip this morning was wonderful-you are such a wise woman. Keep up the good work and know that I love you!
I can understand completely why you would have days like this, not by experience, but I can imagine a little of how hard it would be and I'm sure it's still so much harder then I can even imagine. I am always thinking and praying for you. I think every child you have takes a piece of your heart and that is something that will never change and no one can expect you to just not feel that loss. I love you Andrea and am so proud of the way you are dealing with your grief. I don't think I could handle it as well as you have and as gracefully. Wyatt is a part of you and that something that will never change.
You're doing great Andrea. You are allowed those days. I find those days help us feel our child near us. The world can get us so caught up in other things so quickly that when we do stop to smell the roses.. we cry and feel and hurt. I am greatful for those days, I want to hurt for my son, I am still grieving and will for a lONG time. Our neighbour was talking about these awful storms happening in the gulf.. I said hey it is the sign of the times. He said "doesn't it scare you" my reply was "bring it on"... only I knowing why I said that. I can't wait for the day to hold my boy while standing beside you and all the other wonderful friends we have met lately. What a glorious day it shall be. So bring it on.... we are waiting!
Love ya,
Take care I will be thinking of you tomorrow.
"Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal."
This has been on my mind since last night...and I listened to the song a few times today (Indelible Grace IV). That CD was especially comforting in the time immediately following Olivia's death. Still I am drawn to it from time to time...and find comfort in the lyrics.
The grief will never go away this side of heaven. It might seem to affect us less - but I imagine it will overwhelm us even should we live to be 80. It is amazing how the people who remember WW2 talk about it with as much emotion as if it happened yesterday. With such grief and loss...time alone can't really heal that. I guess we learn to live with it... to live with that hole in our family. It can't be made complete again while we live on earth. Part of us will always be broken, missing...some piece of our hearts.
"He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces..." Isaiah 25:8
Strange to think that a part of our heart is already in Heaven. This life somehow holds out less to me than before. It seems that before the grief I somehow thought it was possible for life to be complete here. In reality, those expectations can't ever be fully realized this side of heaven.
Anyway...just wanted to share those thoughts - mostly to say that you are not alone in living with that hole...that so often we have felt how incomplete our family must always be here.
Post a Comment