Been a long while…

I know that it’s been some time since I last posted anything. It’s hard, it really is. Between being so busy with life/work/home/family/everything-else, it’s easy to forget just how long it’s been since since posting last.

Henry  turned six the last of January. He had his very first ever birthday party. This is a huge milestone as his Selective Mutism frequently makes things like this impossible. He still does not want to be sung to which doesn’t upset me any. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I HATE singing Happy Birthday or having it sung to me. HATE IT. I find it the most absurd tradition. I’ve never expressed it to my kids, but I’m so not upset by his decision to have everyone refrain. 

On March 4, we hit the fifth anniversary of our son, Elias’, death. For some reason, this one was harder than the last couple have been. I don’t know why, well, maybe I do. I kind of wonder if it might not have something to do with Calvin turning four a few days afterward. There’s something about four… that age that Elias never reached. Well, that and others, but I think the fact that he died so close to his fourth birthday… that just weighs heavily on me. At least we’ve been able to get the other three boys to four – and beyond.

Also in March, Ceili Fey turned 14 which is incredibly hard to believe. It seems like she shouldn’t be just about to start high school.

It’s odd how, after a death like Elias’, time seems to go so slowly, yet so fast at the same time. I’m not sure how to explain it in any other terms. It may be something that is unique to the experience as I’m not sure that other “normal” people experience anything quite like it.

I should really try to post more frequently on here. I feel as though it’s been somewhat therapeutic in the past.

In any case, it’s now quitting time so I need to run. I just wanted to update you on the latest happenings in our lives. I promise I will try to do so more frequently.

Take care of yourselves, and each other.

Amanda

Happy 8th Birthday, Elias

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You should have been 8 today. You should have been looking forward to summer break, to you and Noah walking Henry to kindergarten this fall. We should have been planning a party for you. Instead, in the morning, we’ll be getting ready to go to the cemetery, instead. Like we do every year for your birthday.

It never really gets easier, does it.

Happy birthday, Bow. I love and miss you so very much.

On days like this

It’s midnight as I write this. That means that, in several more hours, it’s four years to the moment our son, Elias, died.

Apparently Facebook saw fit to remind me and rub salt in that wound by showing me a “memory” in the form of a picture of him. It just popped up in my feed last night. No, lie, I truly do wish for a slow, painful demise for whatever genius decided it would be a great idea to force you to relive pain in the form of memories on Facebook.

But, this is the day, with or without Facebook. It’s always difficult. Doesn’t really get much easier. You just sort of look for ways to get through it. That’s all you can do.

I’m hoping to soften the blow just a bit this time because several months ago, I bought tickets to Disney on Ice for the family. I guess it’s my way of trying to not have the next several days really suck. After all, Ceili Fey has a birthday on the sixth and Calvin’s is on the seventh. The past few birthdays have kind of sucked for her, especially. Hopefully this will be a great memory for all of the kids.

Here’s to memories, past and future.

Everything is depressing

Everywhere I turn right now is filled with the most depressing stories.

The 11:00 news was filled with awful things – more so than normal.

I was just reading some women discuss their traumatic births. When I went to share mine, I realized that I still couldn’t do more than post the link where I blogged about the experience.

I also know that I am (still) consistently depressed. I’ve struggled with it for years but nothing like after Elias died. Of course, that anniversary is coming up as well.

Ah, well. Such is life.