Death Day

Dec 17, 11:21 pm

I don't want to turn the light off and sleep. I don't want it to be tomorrow.  I don't want to feel the grief of the death day. 

I turn the light off anyway. 

Dec 18, 5:08 am

Suddenly awake, still dark, too early.  I don't want to be in this day. Not yet. I turn on meditation music and close my eyes. 

6:29 am

I get a message from my friend. She is eating cake today. She never forgets. She is with me in spirit. 

6:30 am

The best cat in the world stretches out on my chest and begins to purr. I am not alone. 

7:03 am

A warm body crawls into my bed and snuggles with me. Comfort, not tears. I've never started death day like this before. 

7:42 am 

I see a Facebook post from my friend. Her baby turns one today. A year ago I resented her for having such joy on the death day, for holding her boy when I will never hold mine ago. Today I wonder if I can hold both, my sorrow and her joy. Possibly. 

8:17 am 

I get in the shower and sob. Hot water washes away my tears while happy music plays. 

9:02 am

I am sitting cross legged in my bed, sharing cake for breakfast. I ask him why did he offer to eat cake with me and he replies "You shouldn't have to do this alone." I cry and eat cake. With company. 

9:19 am

A message from a friend. Her son died too. I know she grieves, with me and for me. I hate that she is in this with me. But her message makes me feel seen, not alone in my grief. 

10:00 am

I am wrapped up in a hug. The same person, every year on death day. This is my ritual, to spend the morning with her. I feel her love. 

3:13 pm

Walking with my feet in the water, icy cold toes, sea glass and pretty rocks. Zac is here, in the Atlantic Ocean, with me.

3:25 pm

Wrapped in a blanket, starting to warm up, the sun hits my face through the windshield. I close my eyes and take a breath. It feels peaceful.  

4:30

Eating pizza, I am exhausted.  I don't have anything left. I want to go home and curl up and cry. No more adventures today. 

6:59 pm

I watch the time ticking closer to the moment, seven years ago, when life ended. I feel like I should be crying, wailing, ripping my hair out. I hold myself so tightly and I am held. Not alone. 

7:15 pm

Two big boys home with me. Make pizza. Turn on a movie to watch the fighting, shooting and saving the world. Noise, talking, laughter. 

10:46 pm

Still not alone, tucked into bed with dogs and cats on and around me. Comfort comes in doggy snores and kitty purrs. 

11:01 pm

Turn the light off. Close my eyes.  Death day comes to an end. Today there were pockets of grief and pockets of peace. Today there were tears and there was laughter. Today there was comfort. Today I was hugged and held.  Today I was not alone. 

There has never been a death day like this before. 

i don't want to

i don't want to be brave anymore

i don't want to get out of bed

i don't want to put on pants

i don't want to go to work 

i don't want to be scared anymore

i don't want to drive in snow storms 

i don't want to drive by the death spot

i don't want to see death in oncoming headlights

i don't want to be angry anymore

i don't want to hate the world for turning

i don't want resent all the people who celebrate 

i don't want to hear the voices screaming in my head

i don't want to grieve anymore

i don't want to cry

i don't want to miss him 

i don't want to talk about it

i am so tired

sobbing

curled up in a ball

rocking

seven years later it is not better

seven years later I am still shattered

seven years later it still swallows me whole and leaves me gasping for breath

when does it end

when does it ease

when is there peace 

i don't want to endure anymore

it's just too much

All I Wanted

All I wanted was to be loved

I wanted to be good enough
I wanted to be chosen

I wanted to be held
I wanted arms wrapped around me at night
I wanted my head on a should and a heart beating under my ear

I wanted a safe space to be me

I wanted to be authentic
I wanted to be vulnerable

I wanted a shared future

I wanted shared values
I wanted shared homes, families, traditions

I wanted a playmate

I wanted adventures

I wanted laughter

I wanted to feel seen and heard and valued

I wanted to feel good enough

I wanted to feel worthy

I wanted magic

I wanted peace, hope and joy

I wanted a haven, a safe place to land 

All I wanted was today
Not someday
Not eventually

But today

I wanted a home for my heart

Don't Tell Me That I Shine

Don't tell me that I'm beautiful. Tell me the sound of my laughter makes you want to laugh too. Tell me the way my eyes crinkle when I smile makes your heart soften. Tell me the curve of my shoulder is tantalizing. 

Don't tell me I'm a good person. Tell me that my passion for my work inspires you. Tell me that the way I rescue strangers and kittens gives you hope. Tell me that my soft heart makes you want to hold me close and my stubborn pride fills you with awe. 

Don't tell me that you're mad at me. Tell me that my careless words infuriate you. Tell me that my selfishness makes you feel lonely.  Tell me that my frivolousness frustrates you and when I am distracted you feel unheard. 

Don't tell me that you want me.  Tell me that the scent of me makes you long to hold me close. Tell me that the curve of my ass incites lust. Tell me that curls gone wild makes you feel wild about me and you can't wait to feel my skin against yours.

Don't tell me that you love me. Tell me that when I dance in the kitchen and sing in the shower the world feels brighter. Tell me that my thirst for adventure brings excitement to your soul. Tell me that you can see forever with me sitting across the room from you. 

Don't tell me that you'll fight for me. Tell me that I provoke introspection. Tell me that being with me makes you want to be a better man. Tell me that I matter to you. Tell me that I am worthy and that you want to share your life with me. 

Don't you fucking tell me that I shine. Don't tell me that you're attracted to my light, my goodness, my heart. Tell me that you love the way I show up for people. Tell me you admire how I hold people safe when they are falling apart. Tell me my ability to find magic in the world encourages you to look for magic as well. Tell me that you watch the way I walk the razors edge with wonder. Tell me that the way I find light in the darkness feels miraculous. Tell me that the depth and passion of my emotions takes your breath away. 

Don't tell me that you love me. Tell me that you choose me, every day, in every way.

 

You are stunning.  The look the you send me from across the room, saying everything without saying a word, captivates me.  It reminds me that I have a soul, and that you have touched it.  

 

Your passion for others is inspiring.  It spurs me to do better, and be better, so that I can keep up.  It pushes me to remember my own compassion for others, especially when I am feeling hopeless and angry.  

 

I do want you.  I want to hold you at night.  I want snuggles, and kisses, and spooning.  I want to dance with you.  I want to bake with you.  I want to share myself with you.  I want to touch every inch of you.  I  want to be naked with you, sleep with you, and to love you.  I want to tangle my fingers in your curls, and be so close I can’t tell where I end and you begin.

 

Being with you makes me want to be a better man. It makes me want to engage with myself, discover myself, and discover you.  I look forward to spending the rest of forever with you.  

 

You make my life better.  I look forward to ending the day with you, and wrapping you in my arms.  I look forward to comforting you while you comfort me.  I am excited to build traditions, share experiences, and go on adventures with you. 

I love you.  So much.

 

I am attracted to the way you are and the way you are exist.  I am attracted to your laugh, your smile, your curls, your body.  I am drawn to your shape, your embrace, and your voice. 

I admire your ability to reflect, to comfort, and to be with me.

 

I choose you.  I choose to be with you.  I choose to enjoy you. 

All of you. Every day.

Don't Settle

The one thing I wish for you is this, 

Don't settle for a mediocre love. 

Don't stay because you don't think you can't do better. 

Don't stay because you're afraid to be alone. 

Don't accept anything less than a home for your heart.

It's okay to enjoy your mediocre life. 

It's okay to live on a budget.

It's okay if your home is modest.

It's okay if you don't want fame and fortune. 

But it's not okay to settle for a mediocre love.

When you pick your person, make sure you are both all in. 

Life will throw you some challenges, 

Make sure that you want to do the hard stuff with them.

Make sure they will lean in, have hard conversations. 

Make sure they will fight with you and for you. 

Make sure that neither of you are settling for a mediocre love.

 

You deserve to be loved, fully and deeply. 

You deserve to be seen and heard and valued. 

You deserve to feel safe and wanted. 

You deserve someone who accepts you exactly as you are. 

You deserve so much more than a mediocre love. 

You deserve a home for your heart. 

Don't settle for anything less. 

Bit by Bit

Bit by bit it's getting brighter
Bit by bit it's getting lighter
Bit by bit the storm clouds clear
Bit by bit the heartbreak heals

Bit by bit I'm getting stronger
Bit by by I'm feeling braver
Bit by bit the magic grows

Bit by bit I start to play
Bit by bit I start to hope
Bit by bit I stop the tears
Bit by bit I lose my fears
Bit by bit I start to dream
Bit by bit I find some peace
Bit by bit the magic grows

No longer crying 
No longer drowning 
No longer fighting to catch my breath 
No longer lost
No longer searching 
No longer alone in the depths
Bit by bit the magic grows

Tiny beautiful moments
That were there all along
Steaming tea and falling leaves
Soft sweaters and sunsets
Hugs and heartbeats
Bit by bit the magic grows

Tiny beautiful moments 
That fill up my heart 
Music played loud and singing along 
Blustery days and wind in my hair
Curly haired dogs snuggled up close
Family and friends
Laughter and love

Bit by bit the magic grows 
Bit by by my heart heals
Finally, I am content

Welcome to The Club

 Welcome to the club you never wanted to join. 

You have been chosen, through no fault of your own, to become one of us. One of those who have lost a child. 

Every single one of us wishes we were not one of the chosen ones, but here we are. This is not something we can control. One day we wake up, just like everyone else and before we fall asleep that night, we are permanently changed. We have joined the club. 

I wish I didn't have to greet you. I wish I could spare you what is to come. I wish it could look different for you. 

I do not know what happened to bring you to us and I can not tell you what your membership will look like. I can only give you some guidelines.

The first thing is it's okay to not be okay. There may be days when you fall to the floor in the shower sobbing and unable to move. That's okay. There may be days when you stay curled in your bed. That's okay. You may eat too much, or not at all. You may sleep too much, or not at all. You may cry out loud, gut wrenching sobs. Or you may weep silent tears. Or you may be numb, unable to feel anything. All of it is okay. 

The world will keep turning, without your child, and it will drag you along with it. The sun will rise. There will be new births. There will be birthday parties and graduations and weddings and your child will not be there. You are allowed to honour them in any way you see fit at all these events.  You may hate the world for moving on. You may feel like the world has forgotten them. You will not forget them, not for an instant. 

If you need to clean out their bedroom right away, that's okay. If you need to leave it untouched, as a shrine, that's okay too. If you need to leave their boots sitting by their door, do that. If you need to keep their favourite cereal in the cupboard and eat it when you are feeling especially sad, do that. If you need to sleep with their ashes, wear their favourite sweater, keep their hairbrush in your car or take their pictures off the wall, do that. Do whatever you need to, so that you can make it through today. 

I'm sorry to tell you that people may say stupid things. They may tell you they know how you feel, because their cat died last year. No one, at all, knows how you feel. There are plenty of people in the club whose child died in a similar fashion and not one of them can presume to know how you feel. You are the only one who baked and birthed, loved and raised that child in the way you did. All kinds of dreadful things may trickle out of people's mouths. It's okay to burn bridges. It's okay to tell them to fuck off. Someday you may forgive them, or not. The people who love you will forgive you. 

Your brain may forget how to work. You are carrying something so huge and so heavy that normal mundane things get lost. You may forget where you are supposed to be or what you were doing or the words you need. All of it is okay. Make lists, use a calendar, ask for help. It's okay to drop balls, to show up late, to cancel events, to not show up at all. It's okay to go to bed early. It's really, extra okay, to let the phone ring. Don't take the call, don't answer the text. 

Eventually, people will stop saying your child's name. They will stop talking about him or her. It will feel like everyone has forgotten. I don't know why they do this. Perhaps they think they are protecting you from grief. But you will always be thinking of your child. In fact it may feel like no one cares, because no one is talking. Find your safe people and talk about you child. Share favourite memories or jokes. Tell your people that you miss your baby and wish they were here. 

One day, it may surprise you when you laugh again. You may feel guilt for feeling joy when your child is dead. It's okay to be okay. It's okay to have fun, to love, to be grateful. The world lost something wondrous when your child died, but there are so many really wonderful things still here. You won't always be able to see them, but when you can, it's okay to enjoy them. Create a collection of tiny beautiful things that make life worth living, even though your heart is broken wide open. 

I am sorry to tell you that it doesn't get easier, not really. Your life will grow around the grief. You will create a new normal. It will seem like you have healed. But then there will be days when you will hear a voice, or see a picture. There will be days when you will reach for them and you will remember all over again that they are gone from you. You will meet people, make friends with people, who have no idea that your child once existed. You will not ever love them less. You will not ever stop counting the days, months, years that pass. You will find your own way to survive the worst pain imaginable. 

I am sorry you are here in this club with me. I cannot make it better for you. But I can sit in the dark with you. I can cry with you. I can eat cake with you on your child's birthday. I can say their name. I can lend you my strength. And I can believe in you.