Today Jon and I went to see a guy about a gravestone for Bow’s grave. Do you have any idea how hard that is to wrap your mind around: Picking out a gravestone for your baby boy? Words truly cannot express how wrong that is, how hard that is. And I just keep coming back to why? Why did this happen to our baby? Why did this happen to our beautiful boy? Why did this happen to our family??
It’s days like this that I feel as though I could just curl up and die. It’s hard as hell to go on living knowing that my baby is gone.Yes, I know that I have other children that I must continue caring for. Don’t worry – I won’t go off and kill myself – I couldn’t do that to my other babies. They’ve all been through enough. It’s just that I feel such a depth of despair that I had no idea was even possible.
I wish I knew how Jon was feeling. He hasn’t really shown any emotion since the funeral. I don’t even begin to know how to take that. I’m the only one that gets upset and breaks down… It’s almost as though, after the funeral, Jon just put it all in a box and forgot about it. I wish I could do that. Mostly, I just wish I knew how he was feeling. I try to ask but don’t really get anything out of him.
The stone we picked out was black granite. We are going to have a train etched on it, we just have to find the right one.