I did something today that I never thought I would have to do and want to do so badly. I filled out the paper work and paid for the lettering on Lucas’ crypt and mine. I have been going to Sam’s wall everyday for the past month and every time I go it kills me to see my sons name among a bunch of strangers. I see his name alone with a blank space on either side of him and it breaks my heart. From the beginning I said I did not want to see my name on my grave before I died; however, after burying my son and seeing his name lonesome, things have changed. I thought about it for a few days and my mind has not changed. I mentioned it to Lucas and he didn’t hesitate. It’s mind blowing how much you change as a person after you loss a child. I can’t really explain why I am so determined to have my name on my grave next to my son. I think it will give me comfort. The way I look at it is I am leaving a bit of myself next to Sam to watch over him when I am not there.
So, soon I will arrive at Sam’s gravesite and see my name next to him. Will it bring me the comfort I so desperately want or will I be totally uncomfortable? I don’t know the answer, but what I do know is, I cannot leave my son alone. I know that I may have to explain some things to Michalina, but I am prepared to do that. I wasn’t prepared to explain to her that her baby brother wasn’t coming home with us and we are making it through. At least with this I can think about how I want to approach it. That little girl has experienced more than most kids her age will in their own lifetime. No sibling should have to hold their little brothers lifeless body.
Lately, I don’t know exactly what I am feeling. I can still say that numb is the number one emotion or feeling that encompasses my life. Even though May 9th plays over and over in my head like a horror film on repeat, I still think this is a bad dream. However, in the same breath I feel honored that I have Sam as my son. I was thinking today, if my life was any different, Sam wouldn't be Sam. Do I really want a different life? If that means Sam would be any different as a person then, no. I wouldn’t change anything about him and who he was and what his life stands for. I am not saying I would choose his death over his life, I just don’t regret his life. I like to picture my son as a brave baby boy that served or is serving an extremely important job here on earth and in heaven. His life was not in vain but with great purpose.
I continue to count the days until I see Sam again. I move through my days in effort to get them done and over as quickly as possible. When day is done, I have a sense of relief; one more day closer. If I crack a smile now days, it’s not a smile or a laugh because someone said something funny or something funny happened. I smile because I am proud to be Sam’s mommy and I am one more second closer to being with him again.
I often wonder if I will ever be able to be truly happy again or will happiness be a completely different definition? Can I really call it happiness when I am desperate to be with my entire family? There will forever be a missing piece to my family. At family functions, will his name not be mentioned and his existence be forgotten? I cringe at this possible reality.
What is happiness in a grieving mothers eyes? Can I ever be happy again? What will my “happiness” look like? Is happiness without guilt possible?