It always amazes me how you think that people in your life knows how deep your loss is. You think they would always remember it. But then there are times when you feel like they have totally forgotten. Forgotten just the little things are that are so very hard for you to do. That movie you keep for years, but could never watch again because the last time you watched it you watched it was with your son. Or that place you spent so many moments at and you can hardly breathe when you go back there. Or how you hang on to things of his merely because you can't stand the thought of anyone else having it. How can you really expect them to know. Know your pain, your loss as you do. They are not the ones who lost a child. The one who struggles blindly to get through life without them. Their everyday life has not changed. They feel the loss, but tend to forget those things that, I suppose, they think you should be over all ready. I don't know, I just wish.
Today has been a struggle. I am missing him so much. Everything around me keeps moving forward and I want to screem Stop...Slowdown...but it don't it just keeps moving. I feel frozen. Frozen in time. Frozen where my life once was and wanting it back so bad. I miss him. His laugh, his quiet, shy spirit. I miss his gentleness. I love you Shane.
My day started with a visit to the cemetery. As I pulled up I noticed a van that looked like my moms. I pulled up just behind it and as I took a glance in her rear view mirror, I realized it wasn't my mom. I headed to Shane's grave and started to pull out some of the grass that was left behind from mowing, before I put some things on his grave that I purchased. As I was pulling the weeds, I noticed that the van was still sitting behind me and I heard the women inside silently weeping. I turned around to look and as I did, she said she was the aunt of my new daughter-in-law and her mother is barried right behind Shane. Her mom had only been gone for only 1 1/2 years. I asked her if I could give her a hug. She said "sure" as she got out of the van, we immediately embraced, holding each other and crying for several seconds. We shared stories of our losses. A mother who has lost a child and a child who has lost a mother. Mothers day is hard on both. I will always remember the moment we shared at the cemetery. After she left I cleaned up Shane's grave as I would clean his room. I placed a big blue butterfly above his grave and lit a candle. I cried all the way home and decided I had alot to do so I need to get it together... I turned on the TV in the kitchen just to distract myself from the sadness I was feeling and when I turned on the TV the movie "August Rush" had just started. Now I have vowed I would never watch this movie..The title alone terrified me because I lost Shane in August. I knew the movie was about an 11 year old boy who spent his life in an orphanage and though music tried to find his parents. With music being a big part of Shanes life, I felt the movie could be way to emotional for me, so I pretty much avoided it. I grabbed the controller and I couldn't change the channel...I found myself sitting there through the whole movie crying my heart out. When the movie was over I realized that Shane wanted me to watch this movie....To close my eyes and hear the music. When I feel and hear the music in all the things around me he will be there. Today was a very hard day, but at the same time I was very blessed.
To all who mourn…he will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory. …I cannot remain silent. I will not stop praying for her until her righteousness shines like the dawn, and her salvation blazes like a burning torch.” Isaiah 61:1-2a, 3 & 62:1b NLT
“…that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever. The people who walk in darkness will see a great light… For God will break the chains that bind his people…” Isaiah 9:1a, 2a, 4a NLT