Positively February - Coming Soon

As March approaches more rapidly than I'd like to admit, I become more and more anxious.  I don't look forward to reaching the milestone that marks 1 year since I last held my baby boy.  I've said it many times, if I could, I would erase the date from the calendar altogether.

I'm not a magician, or omnipotent, and therefore making a day disappear is not a talent of mine.  Too bad.  That'd be pretty satisfying right about now.  As I read my friend Krystal's blog entry today, about the random acts of kindness her friends, family and strangers did to honor her twin boys on the day they were born and died, two things struck me:

One of my goals as your mother is to not let your memory be grief.

What an amazing concept.  I want that.  It sounds really difficult, but I really, really want that.  I felt awful a couple of hours ago.  I was at the doctor's office, for my Remicade treatment, and asked if they would take my blood pressure 3 times in the span of 5-10 minutes.  I applied for more insurance at work.  Because I've had and have medical issues, they asked that I fill out a couple questionnaires and the blood pressure one included having recent readings at 5-10 minute intervals... anyway, I had to explain that.  When I got the look from the nurse (who was really kind by the way) that said "you're in your 30s, why do you have blood pressure issues", I explained how I had pre-eclampsia and how my BP was abnormal for 8-10 months.  Anywho, later as she was about to stick an IV into my arm, she asked about my baby and I let her know he passed away.  The look on her face was of complete devastation - like she regretted asking.  I felt bad for being truthful.  I felt sad because I miss my son.  I felt really vulnerable too.

I am probably still a little on edge from last night.  I attended a rosary for one of my colleagues' father who passed away last week.  I wanted to be there for her, like so many people were for me when Preston passed.  I knew I couldn't attend the funeral which was today, since I had my Remicade appointment, so I attended with Jocelyn who was super nice to drive me and give me the flexibility to not go should I not feel up to it at the last minute.  The rosary was held at a funeral home, the same company, different location, that handled Preston's memorial and cremation.  That notion itself was rather difficult, but again, I really wanted to be there for my friend.  For the most part, I think I dealt with the ceremony with dignity.  I struggled with seeing the open casket, as the embalming reminded me of the last time I saw Preston.  The same pale, artificial look.  I had to look away the whole time.

There were a couple things the priest said that hit me pretty hard.  About baptism, which I hadn't taken the time to do for Preston yet.  I'd started looking into it, but probably not enough.  Brings up complicated thoughts like - Preston wasn't baptised, does that mean he didn't go to heaven?  "Unless a man be born again of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kindgom of heaven".  That's probably what struck me the most.  Praying about ascension to heaven and the kingdom of God was difficult.  I really, really want my baby boy to be there.  I really, really hope that my transgressions are forgiven and that I also get to go to heaven so that I can be with my son again.

Needless to say, a lot has been on my mind lately... as March approaches, as I try to support friends through loss.  Death is always so hard to understand, accept and live with.  Loss is just quite literally difficult however you look at it.

I guess I'm writing a novel today...  To get back to Krystal's blog entry, the next thing that stuck with me is this:

They say that it takes a village to raise a child.  I can't tell you if that is true or not (...).  But what I can tell you is this - it takes a community of people to keep a memory alive.  I cannot do it on my own.  You have all helped me to keep Conner and Benjamin alive in the hearts of so many.

So much truth exists in this statement.  I too feel that so many have helped me keep Preston's memory alive, like so many have done the same for Krystal's boys.  I'm so thankful for this.  So incredibly humbled whenever someone mentions Preston to me.  The memory of him isn't completely grief.  There is a lot of happiness when I think of Preston.  Thinking of Preston, doesn't mean I need to concentrate on the loss, or his death.  I can honor his memory by smiling, appreciating life, and helping others through difficult times or just because.

And so, if you were wondering about the title of my blog entry, here it is.  During the month of February, on as many days as possible, I'd like to share a positive thought of the day that might inspire, a positive concept that can be built on, a positive experience that gives hope, or anything else relating to positivity.  As March approaches, I'm going to need all the positivity I can get, and why not share it with as many people as I can?

I invite you to share positive thoughts of the day, concepts or experiences.  I will be sure to select some, if not all, depending on how many responses I get.  As always, you are welcome to comment via Facebook, on this blog or via email - tsunaze1@gmail.com

Hopefully, I can make it a month filled with positivism, for you, for me, for all.