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"Most of us have an urge, maybe more as we age, to circle back to the past and touch the places and things of childhood. Songs exploded from his head.""If you want to keep a memory as is, you carve it into a story.Its not only keeping the content, its keeping the feeling alive.
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I want to say and hear his name just the same as non-bereaved parents do.
I want to speak about my deceased child as normally and naturally as you speak of your living ones.
Every missed birthday, holiday, milestone– should-be back-to-school school years and graduations; weddings that will never be; grandchildren that should have been but will never be born– an entire generation of people are irrevocably altered This crappy club called child loss is a club I never wanted to join, and one I can never leave, yet is filled with some of the best people I’ve ever known. The joy I experience now is far deeper and more intense than the joy I experienced before my loss. Because I’ve clawed my way from the depth of unimaginable pain, suffering and sorrow, again and again– when the joy comes, however and whenever it does– it is a joy that reverberates through every pore of my skin and every bone in my body.
And yet we all wish we could jump ship– that we could have met another way– Alas, these shining souls are the most beautiful, compassionate, grounded, loving, movers, shakers and healers I have ever had the honor of knowing. I feel all of it, deeply: the love, the grief, the joy, the pain. My life now is more rich and vibrant and full, not despite my loss, but of it. These gifts don’t in any way make it all “worth” it, but I am grateful beyond words for each and every gift that comes my way.There will never come a time where I won’t think about who my son would be, what he would look like, and how he would be woven perfectly into the tapestry of my family.