I'm still here

While I haven't written in a while, my pain still accumulates words in my mind and in my heart. However, my fight or flight responses kick in and, well, I choose flight. Every. Damn. Time.

It's too painful. It's easier for me to try and cover my pain with the ease of day to day problems whether it's at work or home. Even when these problems feel heavier than normal, they are so incredibly small when I compare to the deep pain and loss of my beautiful son.

I often visualize the magnitude of this pain. I compare it to looking at the sun. It's so powerful and blinding that if you stare and take in for too long you are forced to deal with the immense side effects it causes. Nearly 2 years after losing my son, I still can't stare into the loss and process it. I'm not prepared for the side effects. I won't come back. This is something I know when considering my pain.

My only survival is too keep his name alive and save others in his name. I have accepted that I will suffer in silence. For the rest of my life. I will suffer in silence in order to keep my other children as whole as possible, with a functioning mother. I will suffer in silence to keep my marriage at least half of what it was prior to losing our son. I will suffer in silence to ensure everyone knows who Alex was and is - to keep him alive through Alex's Story.

Suffering in silence is not the easy route, although my other option is not really feasible either. It's summer. It's summer and I see all the beautiful families taking vacations and basking in the hot sun as they celebrate this fun filled season. Here I am looking at vacation options like they are a chore. "We could go to Arizona and visit the Grand Canyon" or "we could rent out a lakeside cabin". Both options, I offer to my husband, while I think about how when researching both options all I could think of is how Alex won't be there. How guilty I feel living life without him. But, I keep that secret from my husband. While he may try, he won't be able to make me feel better, so why try - I convince myself like all of the other thousands of times now.

It's the same guilt I felt when Alex's younger brother, Tommy graduated this year. Tommy and Alex were so close growing up that I had always imagined they'd be those lucky siblings who were best friends as adults. I remember when they were younger, talking about how they'd have their first house together. Now, I see Tommy graduate and while I'm so proud and happy, I'm also so incredibly saddened. Especially with Tommy looking more and more like his brother every day.

So, while I haven't been around much to write, I am still here. Like all you other moms who've lost, still suffering. Suffering while everyone else lives on. I'm just suffering in silence.

Until next time...