Waiting for my Door To Open
I wish that I was further along in this grief process. I wish my kids never had to go through this. While I'm wishing, I wish for my Bug... However, as reality is banging in my ear, I know I need to stop wishing. Soldier on, and face the harsh light of day.
I read somewhere that around the six month mark the grieving process gets really intense. I couldn't fathom that. How could it be any more intense than the searing pain that was ripping my soul apart? But as I am discovering, it isn't the grief that is getting more intense. It's the sadness. Sadness due to the constant grieving. Sadness due to coping with a new reality, forming a new identity every day. Sadness that comes from family members and friends who no longer remember you are grieving, who no longer mourn the loss of the boy who was. Sadness due to chronic missing my child, my friend.
I have to believe everything happens for a reason. The reason for Bug's birth and subsequent handicaps. The reason for his and our struggles to cope with his life and now, the reason for his death. And I firmly believe that with one door closing another door opens.
So I am sitting here, waiting for my door to open. While missing my bug.