1 Week and counting
For those of you who are following my blog, thank you. It's healing for me. I appreciate your comments. I like to know that people care about me and are thinking about my Ezra.
Tomorrow begins the one week decent onto Christmas day. I'm trying here to diffuse some of the anxiety I'm building up already. I just ordered a Christmas present for Ezra. It's something special I will reveal on Christmas day. I think more disturbing for me, than spending his first Christmas without him, is the fact that he would have been 6 months exactly on Christmas. Sometimes I think evil is having a hay day with my anniversaries. How vicious that each year Christmas, the 25th will mark what would have been some small milestone in Ezra's life. I've never been one to acknowledge half birthdays, I think I've even gawked at them a little, something senseless now made so forte in my thoughts.
I just spent some time looking through some pictures of Ezra. I want to put together a little slide show with some music I've chosen to show with my family at Christmas. I imagine myself very upset, hopefully ridding myself of sadness so I can enjoy the time with my family. But then I think how terrible it would be if somehow I was able to be through with my mourning, for that would mean I'd forgotten him because the memories are rich and they bring the sadness, and I would much rather live with the grief than loose the memories of my precious boy. I cannot tell you how badly it feels to long for his weight against my chest, to hold him. I was offered to hold another 6 month old this week, and it was a genuine thought of comfort, but I could have puked the lump in my throat was so huge. What a terrible attempt it would be for me to hold some other baby in place of the emptiness my arms feel for Ezra. I find only some peace in the fact that heaven will allow us some kind of relief of that, until then I look at his picture and I can feel him in my memories, and it's so torturous and beautiful, that I hang there in my thoughts and cry, loving the sweetness of his smell and the comfort of his warm snuggle, and crying so much because it's terrible to miss those things so badly. Life has a new depth that I think only comes from living more spiritually and death has opened this to me, Abe feels it too. It's a reality check unlike any superficial reminder, it's a mental awareness that demands attention, it requires honesty and mindfulness of intuition. It's a blessing and a curse, and I don't mean to be cliche, I believe it's a way of survival for me as I mourn.
My mom called and we talked, i feel ok. I'm going to go sew and let off some steam.
Tomorrow begins the one week decent onto Christmas day. I'm trying here to diffuse some of the anxiety I'm building up already. I just ordered a Christmas present for Ezra. It's something special I will reveal on Christmas day. I think more disturbing for me, than spending his first Christmas without him, is the fact that he would have been 6 months exactly on Christmas. Sometimes I think evil is having a hay day with my anniversaries. How vicious that each year Christmas, the 25th will mark what would have been some small milestone in Ezra's life. I've never been one to acknowledge half birthdays, I think I've even gawked at them a little, something senseless now made so forte in my thoughts.
I just spent some time looking through some pictures of Ezra. I want to put together a little slide show with some music I've chosen to show with my family at Christmas. I imagine myself very upset, hopefully ridding myself of sadness so I can enjoy the time with my family. But then I think how terrible it would be if somehow I was able to be through with my mourning, for that would mean I'd forgotten him because the memories are rich and they bring the sadness, and I would much rather live with the grief than loose the memories of my precious boy. I cannot tell you how badly it feels to long for his weight against my chest, to hold him. I was offered to hold another 6 month old this week, and it was a genuine thought of comfort, but I could have puked the lump in my throat was so huge. What a terrible attempt it would be for me to hold some other baby in place of the emptiness my arms feel for Ezra. I find only some peace in the fact that heaven will allow us some kind of relief of that, until then I look at his picture and I can feel him in my memories, and it's so torturous and beautiful, that I hang there in my thoughts and cry, loving the sweetness of his smell and the comfort of his warm snuggle, and crying so much because it's terrible to miss those things so badly. Life has a new depth that I think only comes from living more spiritually and death has opened this to me, Abe feels it too. It's a reality check unlike any superficial reminder, it's a mental awareness that demands attention, it requires honesty and mindfulness of intuition. It's a blessing and a curse, and I don't mean to be cliche, I believe it's a way of survival for me as I mourn.
My mom called and we talked, i feel ok. I'm going to go sew and let off some steam.
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