My Ben

I don't want to do it. That is what I keep repeating. I don't want to do it again. I don't want another funeral.  I don't want to cremate another son. I don't want to do it. But I will. Because there is no other choice. 

I'm managing better this time around. I don't vomit over and over every day. I have been able to eat a little. I have been able to sleep, some. We all started making jokes the second day in. It makes me wonder, did I love him less? Am I grief numb? Is it the shock? 

What I think is that I've walked this road before. We walked this road together seven years ago. We learned so much about grief and life, that even though we are devastated again, we know. 

We know that the world keeps turning and the sun keeps rising despite our sorrow. We know that in the beginning grief is all encompassing, but our life will grow around it. We know that we will find reasons to smile and to laugh again. We know that he will miss things, weddings and holidays and such, but we also know, that we will find ways to honor him at those events. We know that there will be new babies to love. We know that there will be new friends to laugh with. 

We know that he is not gone. We know he is still with us. His presence felt, though unseen. We know that love does do not die. But mostly, we know that we have been so incredibly blessed to love and have been loved in such a way that we grieve like this.