How sweet the sound

Today after I dropped off Tommy at school I was driving and put in a CD that had some of the music from Riley's memorial on it. I really do like the song, but it brought me right back to how I was feeling that day. There is a CD with orchestra music that is also in the car, and I can't listen to that without getting upset. It was the music I always played for Riley in the car when he would start to cry.

I just remember the day feeling so surreal. Who can ever imagine having to attend their children's funeral? I still can't fully fathom everything that happened, and little moments during the day will still overwhelm me with grief. I just feel like I should have been there, I should have stopped this from happening some how and that kills me.

The day of the funeral, I feel I only made it through by the grace of God. In my time of desperate need, a good friend from high school was there for me. Her support and prayers I know helped me function and keep looking up. As we walked out of the room in the back into the sanctuary, I remember thinking, "this isn't happening". Holding my husband's hand, we took our seats to say our goodbyes to our beloved son. I listened to the words of the pastor, reading off the family names. Then hearing my parents names, both passed away. That wrenched my heart.

I remember being so proud of my dear husband to be able to speak in front of the crowd the words from his heart. I silently urged him on, praying for Josh to have the strength and focus to do as he wanted to do.

Watching the slide show was like slow pinpricks deep into my heart. I loved those pictures, but to see them again was so hard. My baby is gone. I put the slide show together, and I was proud of myself for being able to accomplish that.
The remainder of the service went on like a slow blur. I held on to Josh, and was so thankful for my aunt being by my other side.

Before I knew it, it was over. The pastor walked down to shake our hands, and I was confused. Josh held my hand as we were led out into the front vestibule. I could hear Elvis singing Amazing Grace. I felt dead inside. I felt so light headed, I thought I was going to faint. I remember looking across the room and seeing a couch. My entire goal was to make it to the couch and sit down. But I never made it there. I was not prepared for what was going to happen next. Everything I was avoiding during the week culminated into an onslaught for that next hour. No one told me that we would be lined up for people to address us on their way out. I kept thinking it was like our wedding. But on the EXTREME opposite end of the scale. No happy hugs or well wishes. Instead countless sorrowful hugs and "I'm so sorry for you" a hundred times.
Not that I am not thankful for every one's support, I was just not prepared for this.

As the line formed and people continued on, I think at one point I said, "Next..." to someone I didn't know. Not very tasteful, I know, but I thought it was slightly humorous.
I was very overwhelmed with all the love and support, and my emotions let loose on a few people. I felt so drained, empty. This milestone now passed, what next?

I still feel that way. The days are zooming by, and I don't know what to do next.

What a faker.

I feel like I act happy. Inside I feel so broken hearted. I look at pictures of Riley and I feel a dangerous bubbling under the surface. When my Mom died, I could not and would not look at pictures of her, as to not allow myself to feel the grief.

It is different with my son. I hurt. So bad. I look at pictures and I weep. On the inside. I feel like I fake my demeanor right now. Fake it 'till you make it. But I feel myself starting to breakdown. I am exhausted from constantly acting as if I am okay.

I am not trying to keep my feelings inside, and I know that I have a great support system. If I have realized anything from this past week, it is that Josh and I have wonderful friends and family. So many people would drop anything and help us. I just feel that I can't. I don't want to. I need to line up counseling, of this I am aware.

I miss him so much. I miss feeling needed. I miss nursing him. I miss his big toe on his right foot that he always seemed to tense up. I miss the nasty rotten milk smell in his neck folds. I miss coming home from work and feeling like I was the only person that he wanted. I miss rubbing his head and watching his eyelids close in sleep. I miss everything.

Josh and I smell his baby clothes and pass them back and forth like crack. It's our personal crack.

It hurts so bad.

I adore my Tommy, and without him I would feel lost. He gives me a reason to keep going. That and Pluckers Fried Pickles. Josh is out getting me some tonight. I love my husband.

You've had a bad day and felt like a sandwich.

Inside my mind I had a bad day, a mental pity party that was like a broken record playing over and over.

I woke up and wanted to cry and cry and cry. I went into the bathroom and barely felt the energy to lift my arms. I had to get ready, but I didn't want to. I wanted to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over my head, and pretend to have a stomach ache. Although I know I can talk to Josh about how I feel, I didn't feel like sharing my depressed thoughts. I felt like an angry spider monkey jumped on my back and latched on tight, whispering mean, cranky and breaking things into my ear. Go choke on a banana you evil monkey.

But I got dressed. Didn't shower, but at least I put on clean clothes.

Josh and I went to church together for the first time in a long time. It was nice. It was difficult.
During the service I felt angry. Why did God take my baby? I would never wish this upon any one, but I almost felt like I would to get my baby back. But those feelings do no good. I cannot trade or barter my baby back. Anger is a wasted emotion. But that doesn't stop me from being angry now does it?

Within my fog of a pity party I realized I have lost both of my parents and my child. I have death on both sides of me, top and bottom. I am a Georgie grief sandwich. Again...pity. party.

A bright spot was a wonderful lunch with wonderful people. A happy moment.
Yesterday I kissed a babies head, and tickled a foot. Today I did it again. It felt nice.

I did get angry with a certain person who shall remain nameless. It angered me to the point of yelling (not at the person but at my poor husband about it), it was the first time that I felt my grip on my emotions slip.

People are who they are, and I am in no position to judge. But God help me I can't stress enough to everyone to love and cherish their children. Sometimes you don't feel like it. Put that aside and show your love. No one is perfect, no parent is perfect. Love is perfect.

The end.

Oh What a Feeling

Today was the memorial for Riley. I can't share just yet how I felt about that.

I can't seem to get a grip on how I feel.

Georgie feels: sad+exhausted+melancholy+happy+lonely. Sadexmelonhaponly.

After everyone departed today, I left to run some errands. Some necessary, some not. It was the first time I was alone in the past seven days. Right before I left, I changed my earrings. I looked into the mirror and felt pretty. It felt odd to feel that way.

My first errand was to find a dry cleaner that could have Josh's suit jacket ready by Monday morning. FIVE dry cleaners later, I finished that feat. But on the positive side, it was near a Which Wich. I love those sandwiches. So I ate my sandwich by myself. And I felt happy.

My next errand was to go to the mall to exchange something, and get a thank you present for someone that did an amazing thing for us this week. As I walked through the mall, it was a crowded Saturday, full of teeny-boppers and old people. Navigating the busy mall, I visited my new favorite store. I selected my gift and walked out. I felt lonely. Such an odd feeling to have while surrounded by so many people.

Time feels like it moves so slow. I feel like I lose focus and just zone off into space. I stared at a Hello Kitty top in the children's section for what was probably 20 minutes. I got asked if I needed help by three different sales people. Perhaps they thought I was pondering just how to fit this size 5T shirt into my XL wardrobe. Perhaps they were wondering just when to call security. Ha.

I then went to my FAVORITE store. A craft store. Ahhhhh.....Perusing the goods, I touched everything, like I was trying to savor every moment. I missed my family that just left. I could just hear my aunt's voice in my head. I felt melancholy. Like I needed some Enya theme music to follow me around.

Sigh, then I went to Kohl's to get Josh a shirt. I usually love any Kohl's time, but it made me yearn to be with my husband so bad, I could hardly stand to not jump on the closest Josh look-a-like. I feel such a pull to my husband that I just want to share every breath with him. He is going to have to shake me off his leg like a dog in heat.

Driving home, I still had to stop by the store....and then get gas...which is a task I detest. Lugging the bags to the car I felt exhausted. And sad.

I miss my baby.

Because I have to.

My son died.

I just want to sleep until the world ends.
I just want to cry until my body runs dry.
I just want to scream until my vocal cords no longer work.
I just want to curse so harsh that the devil would cringe.

But I do not. I feel I have to be strong. Because I have to.
I feel guilty putting earrings on. I feel like I should wear a black shroud and not be seen in any other state but hysterical crying. But I can't do that. I have to be strong. I feel peaceful, calm and supported. I can't explain it. I am an emotional person, and to have this sense of calm is well....calming.

I have to be strong. Because I have to.

I select my clothes in the morning. Do I wear ugly unwashed sweat pants to show that I don't care how I look? So I will look as I barely can move forward? No, today I choose a gold and silver sequin top. It sparkles so much.

I will say that I haven't felt the energy to shower, sorry to all of the people around me. I squirted some perfume in particular places, so that should help.

I want to steal all the babies I see and just put them all in a room to hear the screaming, giggling, and babbling. I want to love on every pregnant woman I see to let them know just how special the experience they have coming up is. I want everyone to cherish their children.

I can't say that I regret anything. Regret is for losers. La-who-sa-hers.

My world will forever be different, but I know that I will move forward. I adore my Tommy and my Josh. I have to be strong. Because I have to dammit.