When my nephew died, I felt heartache and pain like I'd never experienced before. And I often wondered if it was ever something that would go away. Would I ever feel normal again? I soon learned that the feelings I had were the new normal. Life as I knew it before he was gone would never exist again. I now compartmentalize my life into two segments - "before Christopher's accident" and "after Christopher's accident". It's how I'm able to tell what was going on in my life when someone asks me about a moment in time. Sad, right?
There have been "friends" who couldn't quite understand the changes in me. When I wasn't my normal fun self at a Thanksgiving get-away 4 months after Christopher's accident, I had "friends" give up on me. And while I don't think he doesn't understand, it's when the sadness hits suddenly and I'm quiet and my husband asks, "what's wrong?" and I say "nothing" ... it still takes him a while to figure out just what IS wrong (my silence an effort to avoid breaking down in front of the boys).
For the past (almost) 3 years, I've tried to find something to do to commemorate Christopher's life. I've not ever been able to find the right thing, though. I mean, I've tattooed myself with the perfect symbol for him. I've found the perfect way to say hello to him when I see the dragonfly or the sun rays ... but I've not ever been able to do something else - coordinate a run, champion a cause, start a donation fund - because I just haven't been able to find the right cause. Or the right idea. There's been nothing in my mind that would represent exactly who Christopher was. And I hate that.
The parents highlighted in this article are feeling pain that no parent should ever, ever feel. I've said on more than one occasion - no parent should ever bury their child. It resonates especially true when the child is 6. Or 8.
But they have a cause to get behind. They have something to fight for. They have something that they can champion and get behind and demand a change ... and I almost covet that (almost). I, though, have a hard time understanding that the cause they're championing is suddenly a political, constitutional issue. Because it isn't. And I have a strong feeling of hatred for those that have made it that way.
This article highlights very well just how those parents are feeling. (I can almost feel the ache in the mother's body at the sight of the photograph of her son. And the father is braver than anyone can imagine. It took me over 2 years before I could look at a photograph of Christopher.)
After Newtown Shooting, Mourning Parents Enter Into Lonely Quiet
I hope the people we've elected to congress can get their collective shit together and stop making changes to gun purchases a political issue. Because it's not. And making it such is insulting to these families, and to every family who has lost a loved one at the hand of someone who, but for a simple background check, wouldn't have been able to purchase a gun in the first damn place.
There have been "friends" who couldn't quite understand the changes in me. When I wasn't my normal fun self at a Thanksgiving get-away 4 months after Christopher's accident, I had "friends" give up on me. And while I don't think he doesn't understand, it's when the sadness hits suddenly and I'm quiet and my husband asks, "what's wrong?" and I say "nothing" ... it still takes him a while to figure out just what IS wrong (my silence an effort to avoid breaking down in front of the boys).
For the past (almost) 3 years, I've tried to find something to do to commemorate Christopher's life. I've not ever been able to find the right thing, though. I mean, I've tattooed myself with the perfect symbol for him. I've found the perfect way to say hello to him when I see the dragonfly or the sun rays ... but I've not ever been able to do something else - coordinate a run, champion a cause, start a donation fund - because I just haven't been able to find the right cause. Or the right idea. There's been nothing in my mind that would represent exactly who Christopher was. And I hate that.
The parents highlighted in this article are feeling pain that no parent should ever, ever feel. I've said on more than one occasion - no parent should ever bury their child. It resonates especially true when the child is 6. Or 8.
But they have a cause to get behind. They have something to fight for. They have something that they can champion and get behind and demand a change ... and I almost covet that (almost). I, though, have a hard time understanding that the cause they're championing is suddenly a political, constitutional issue. Because it isn't. And I have a strong feeling of hatred for those that have made it that way.
This article highlights very well just how those parents are feeling. (I can almost feel the ache in the mother's body at the sight of the photograph of her son. And the father is braver than anyone can imagine. It took me over 2 years before I could look at a photograph of Christopher.)
After Newtown Shooting, Mourning Parents Enter Into Lonely Quiet
I hope the people we've elected to congress can get their collective shit together and stop making changes to gun purchases a political issue. Because it's not. And making it such is insulting to these families, and to every family who has lost a loved one at the hand of someone who, but for a simple background check, wouldn't have been able to purchase a gun in the first damn place.