Not to say that these waves of grief are not predictable. As you become more familiar with your vulnerabilities and triggers, you become more aware of when a grief burst will hit. But even if you can see it coming, it is unavoidable, you are going to face it and it is going to hurt.
When I am tired, not eating and sleeping properly, maybe starting on a cold and creating more stress in an already stressful situation, that is when I am most susceptible to feeling a grief burst.
Right now, full time at school, new situation, new roles and responsibilities, I am definitely run down and under more pressure than usual. Add to that the fact that Kinley is turning three, there does not appear to be room for another child in our family right now, and lets face it I am not getting any younger and you have created my perfect storm of emotion.
I feel similar to how I did right after Flynn died too, noticing every pregnant woman at school, in the grocery store, on Facebook! I obsessively look through pictures of newborns and dream about what it would be like to hold a baby again.
Then I realize how different I would feel if Flynn were alive. How I might feel more complete if he were here right now. Eight years old, filling up our all boy clan, contributing to my parenting woes, that although I complain about them I secretly love being needed and loved by my boys. What if he were here, how would I be different, how would our family be and feel?
All this thinking about what could be has made me sad, realizing how much I missed getting the opportunity to know our second son. To see what sports he would be into, to meet his friends, to help him with his school work, to break up fights with his brothers and to hear about his wishes and dreams.
Today I cannot think about the fact that if he were here my path would look different too. I most likely would not be in school pursuing a degree in social work and specializing in the study of grief and bereavement. Today I just need to miss him and I do.
I have days like this from time to time. More than I like to admit...which kick my ass from the inside out as I sit and slump down in total emotional exhaustion. I understand your thoughts as I think about what I would be like if things were different... For me, I profoundly miss the never-had conversations. I think about the lessons I could have learned from him and what type of person I would be if I would of had the opportunity. To know at least some of what he knew and how it would have shaped me... I wonder a lot too about how he would have seen me. I think about the choices I have made and how differently I may have seen the world if I could of had known my dad as an adult.
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