Wednesday, March 17, 2010
It has been one week since Ty passed away. Dan and I are
sleeping better -feeling safer and at home in my father's condo. The images of
that awful morning are slowly lessening in distinction, so that we don't feel
that instantaneous sickness in our stomachs when it inevitably comes to mind.
We've had to say good-bye to much of our family, which gets harder with each
good-bye. But my mom and Pawnee are still visiting, and Thomas is driving back
up with his kids for the weekend. We're looking forward to seeing our nieces and
nephew, who really want to visit Ty's resting place.
We are completely at peace with where Ty is right now, and the promises that are to come for our family. But we miss our little Bubs constantly. Everywhere we look, we are reminded of him. Little babies remind us of his birth and toddlers remind us of what was to come. Spring is arriving, and I remember how much I looked forward to letting him play in our backyard or go to a park. I wanted to see his reaction when he touched grass for the first time, or when he would notice bugs or insects landing on his skin. Mostly, we miss his dimpled smile and the laughter that always touched his eyes as he'd widen them in surprise and pleasure. We miss holding him and feeling how heavy he was getting; the plumpness of his thighs and the expansion of his belly; we miss giving him baths and blowing on his naked tummy, and commenting on his beautiful skin tone.
Dan and I seem to take shifts on feeling especially sad. This has helped us take turns comforting the other. Despite our anguish, truly this has pulled us even closer together as a couple. Hand in hand we are dealing with this. Sometimes, you hear how tragedy can destroy a husband and wife. Dan and I don't know how we would survive if we were to lose a child, as well as a spouse, emotionally. For us, it has made us stronger. But we also recognize the need to feel sad. Being strong doesn't mean not feeling the pain - it's the courage to be faithful.
I have yet to be angry at God. I have felt frustration . . . but I am so at peace with God and where my son is, that at times I wonder when I'm going to fall - like I should be preparing for an inevitable meltdown. After all, isn't "anger" one of the five stage of grief? But I've never really been an angry person... perhaps it will not apply to me.
We have heard so many people comment on how powerful Ty's funeral was: testimonies were strengthened and families pulled closer together. Individuals promised to better themselves, or were otherwise inspired to change their lives. It's amazing how many lives Ty was able to touch, both in life and through his passing.
I am so proud to be his mother. And Dan could never be more proud to be his father.
We love you, Ty.
We are completely at peace with where Ty is right now, and the promises that are to come for our family. But we miss our little Bubs constantly. Everywhere we look, we are reminded of him. Little babies remind us of his birth and toddlers remind us of what was to come. Spring is arriving, and I remember how much I looked forward to letting him play in our backyard or go to a park. I wanted to see his reaction when he touched grass for the first time, or when he would notice bugs or insects landing on his skin. Mostly, we miss his dimpled smile and the laughter that always touched his eyes as he'd widen them in surprise and pleasure. We miss holding him and feeling how heavy he was getting; the plumpness of his thighs and the expansion of his belly; we miss giving him baths and blowing on his naked tummy, and commenting on his beautiful skin tone.
Dan and I seem to take shifts on feeling especially sad. This has helped us take turns comforting the other. Despite our anguish, truly this has pulled us even closer together as a couple. Hand in hand we are dealing with this. Sometimes, you hear how tragedy can destroy a husband and wife. Dan and I don't know how we would survive if we were to lose a child, as well as a spouse, emotionally. For us, it has made us stronger. But we also recognize the need to feel sad. Being strong doesn't mean not feeling the pain - it's the courage to be faithful.
I have yet to be angry at God. I have felt frustration . . . but I am so at peace with God and where my son is, that at times I wonder when I'm going to fall - like I should be preparing for an inevitable meltdown. After all, isn't "anger" one of the five stage of grief? But I've never really been an angry person... perhaps it will not apply to me.
We have heard so many people comment on how powerful Ty's funeral was: testimonies were strengthened and families pulled closer together. Individuals promised to better themselves, or were otherwise inspired to change their lives. It's amazing how many lives Ty was able to touch, both in life and through his passing.
I am so proud to be his mother. And Dan could never be more proud to be his father.
We love you, Ty.
No comments:
Post a Comment