6 months..

I plan to post my day 22 gratitude tonight or later today, but for now, I must acknowledge what today is.  A few hours from now, exactly 6 months ago on 3/13/14, I found out my little boy had stopped breathing in his sleep (I hope, it was in his sleep) while at daycare.  The frantic call from the nanny telling me "Preston's not breathing" continues to haunt me, and I hear it over and over like it is happening all over again. 

Rush as I may, numb as I was, nothing could be done.  I couldn't get there fast enough, not that it would have changed the outcome.  My little boy was gone.  Never to take a breath again, never to bat his sweet eyelashes just one more time.  Never to show his sweet smile, or sputter his soothing coos.  Never to experience his first steps, or first words.  Never to feel the soft grass under his feet.  All my life, I've heard the expression, "never say never".  Never follows me like a shadow that I don't want.  Never flows through my mind every day as I see commercials of babies taking their first steps, or simply giggling.  Never reappears on every 13th, and 19th, or any day really.  Does it make me cry?  Not all the time.

I could easily let myself go.  Let myself fall to the ground, crumble and break.  I could easily go crazy with thoughts of what could have be, what should have been.  Why don't I?  Perhaps it's just not who I am.  I use to dwell on everything that I had no control over.  I use to agonize over every little detail of my life.  Was I searching for perfection?  Was there a need to forever please others?  Certainly.  Perfection existed in Preston.  Perfection doesn't last, it's human nature.  Try as I may to please everyone all the time, it's an impossibility. 

All I can do, is try our best.  All I can do, is take life a moment at a time.  All I can do, is remember my son in a positive light.  Since that's all I can do, perhaps that is why I don't find myself crying every day.  Perhaps that is why I find myself smiling at pictures that should tear me apart.  Perhaps that is why 6 months out, I feel content with life,  yet bittersweetness follows me where I go.  Perhaps that is why I can feel happiness, yet it's often associated with guilt.  Is it odd that I feel anger when someone tells me to smile?  Or that I get upset when someone tells me I should be happier?  I have every reason not to smile if I don't feel like it.  I have every right to not feel happy if I don't feel like it.

Perhaps this post is contradicting.  Conceivably, it might just be the perfect insight into what the thoughts a grieving parent has on a daily basis.

I felt some peace yesterday when I went for a walk with hubby.  I must have seen 10-12 bunnies, the most I've seen in a day.  While it's September, it was chilly like a February day.  Did it happen out of the blue, this wave of cold? Not really, since it'd been in the forecast for days.  But really, how often does the weather get down to freezing temperatures in September.  We shall see what today brings though.

Miss you Preston.  Miss you more than you know.  I think of you every day.  I grieve for you every day.  I share you every day.  Share your life, share your smile.  Share the love I have for you, share the signs you send me.  I hope Heaven is a good home for you, that you are surrounded by love, and friends.  I long for the day that I get to see you again.