Monday, November 18, 2024

SpreadHappinessForPreston – Year 11 – 11/19/2024

 The more time elapses since losing Preston, I realize that gradually less are acquainted with my son; his story.  Concurrently, finding the right inspiration to write this yearly post becomes more challenging.  A symptom of being 10 years removed from the initial loss and shock of it all?

 

I’ll start here:  After losing my 16-week-old son to SIDS in March 2014, in an attempt to feel less alone and isolated, I spent sleepless nights reading quotes about grief, frequented forums for bereaved parents and read blogs about infant loss.  One story stayed with me: a family who had lost their daughter made it a mission to pay it forward in her memory.  With that in mind, I started a blog journaling my own journey, sharing my innermost thoughts, letting myself be vulnerable, all in the hopes of helping others going through a similar devasting loss.  I incorporated the “pay it forward” philosophy aiming to inspire others to spread happiness on Preston’s birthday (November 19th).  Preston was such a happy baby - he embodied happiness I’ve always said.   It only seemed fitting to brand his birthday and my blog: SpreadHappinessForPreston.

 

This blog was also my emotional outlet.  It prevented me from being swallowed by darkness.  In time, I’ve come to realize that others related to the range of emotions I detailed: pain, confusion, anxiety, guilt, numbness.  Succeeding wasn’t possible with every post, however I attempted to be a beacon of hope and positivity every time I wrote.  The roller coaster ride I embarked on over 10 years ago has a lot less twists and turns, ups and downs, but when they happen, I often find myself reading my own posts for inspiration and solace.  Crazy thing is, a lot of it, I don’t even remember writing.  This attests that there is such a thing as grief fog.

 

That said, please know that whatever you are going through, you are never alone.  Someone else has gone through it, is going through it right now.  I understand feeling alone, and that it can feel impossible – but please reach out to someone if you are struggling. You got this!

 

Preston and SpreadHappinessForPreston turn 11 this year, on Tuesday 11/19/2024.  To say that I’ve been overwhelmed through the years by reading how others have spread happiness is an understatement.  Throughout the darkness that exists in our world, there is still a lot of brightness.  I hope that those who participate find it meaningful and know that it touches my heart and soul more deeply that I could ever imagine; it gives me purpose as Preston’s mother, and gives his short life purpose just as much.

 

SpreadHappinessForPreston makes the world a happier place, certainly brighter – if only for a day.  I hope you will consider participating in spreading happiness on Preston’s birthday.  If not in memory of Preston, simply because spreading happiness improves our own well-being by feeling the genuine joy for someone else’s happiness.  Paying it forward doesn’t need to cost a thing – just make it your mission to make someone smile on November 19th.

 

Wishing you a blissfully happy day, and joyous Thanksgiving and Holiday season.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

"I'll find you out on the horizon"

 Dear Preston,

Tomorrow’s that awful day again.  10 years.  I’m facing that conundrum again where time both feels like it’s flown by, but at the same time it has ticked on at the pace of a snail’s crawl.

10 years.  How is that even remotely possible?  The emptiness is still there, the ache ever so present, the wound doesn’t heal.  It’s scar tissue, on top of scar tissue for every time the wound slowly tries to heal to self-preserve but is re-opened by moments, words, thoughts, sounds.  Most days are filled with smiles, laugher, good moments.  But these feelings of emptiness are never really far… hiding beneath the surface.

I’m obsessed with the new Linkin Park song – Friendly Fire.  It just spoke to me the first time I heard it.  Chester’s voice.  The lyrics.  “I was supposed to protect you, no matter what’s to come”.  Tears my heart every time – because it’s true – I was supposed to protect you, that’s my job!  But  I can’t stop listening to it.  I guess sometimes you just have to feel the hurt. The need for the hurt.  Feels wrong.  Yet makes me feel closer to you.

“We’re strangers in between the darkness, diving underneath.  I’ll find you out on the horizon”.  I do often wonder if we are strangers.  What would you look like?  What would you be like?  What would your passions be?  I know you would have been an excellent big brother, because you are even if you aren’t here.  Your sister loves you so much.  And I know in my heart and soul that you’re her guardian angel.

I ask myself these questions so often.  Too often.  I know we certainly aren’t strangers as you’re a part of me.  The missing puzzle piece.  But, I will find you out on the horizon – another rainbow? In heaven?

Know that you eternally live in my heart, even when it’s hard and I just want to run away from it all.  There are days where I could just drive around for hours, listening to music, thinking about you.

I’ll snuggle your sister all day if I can tomorrow.  It helps, having her close, safe.  You’d be proud of her, she’s a little spitfire.  Tenacious, definitely her own person and she won’t let you forget it.  Keep an eye on her, ok?  She’s heading in challenging years.

I miss you.  Every. Day.  It’s been a rough couple of months leading to this day.  I’ve done a lot of soul searching, reading my own blog and thoughts.  Not remembering a lot of it was jarring – quite the revelation of really being in a grief fog.  Helpful.  Heart-wrenching.  Cause for hope.  I suppose, all things I needed leading to today.

Keep on spreading that happiness my love.  Perhaps this was one of the sadder posts and letters I’ve written, at least in a long time.  I needed it.  Not having that same need and inspiration to write made me forget how soothing and releasing it could be to just bear my soul for whoever will read it.  Hopefully it helps others, and not just me.  That’s always been my goal – for you to have that purpose.  Your life meant something, and not just to me.

I love you always.

Mama 

PS. Send me some rays of sunshine or something tomorrow won’t cha?