We remember.

A bereavement card received on the date of Conor's passing read....

"We remember." It was a card stock, one of those that they send to everyone in your situation. The one without personalization. Just a postcard with a stamped signature. 

Such a kind gesture, such a kind card. I should feel blessed that even a huge business would send cards to every single parent who lost a child. 

I should feel thankful, I did.....but at the same time, I felt....

I felt....mad! 

We remember? Really? I'm so glad you remember....I do too! As if I could forget! As if I had the option to forget that moment. That moment. when the world stopped, my heart began to crack, and part of me disappeared forever. I remember...I remember that moment when everyone avoided eye contact. They knew what they were about to witness, I searching longingly, hoping someone would look at me and tell me it was going to be okay, that they could fix him.

 But instead...nothing. 

Low laying eyes surrounded us, and when I did catch a glimpse of anyone near I saw that look of sadness, the look of pity. It's as if I could close my eyes and be back in that moment. Time slowed, people whizzing by me, adjusting this infusion, increasing that, alarms going off, and then the doctor looking at me telling me we had little time. 

"Do you want to hold him?"

Time came back, and finally someone looked me in the eyes. The doctor grabbed my shoulders with both hands and looked at me...

"It won't be long. Do you want to hold him?" 

I could paint you a picture. I remember it so vividly...even though at times I wish I could just forget the bad and only remember his face, his hands, his tiny feet. Instead I remember that moment more vividly than the rest. I was sure day to day life would get easier. The life of being a grieving mother would slowly fade, and the loss would become easier to tolerate.

It doesn't get easier. It's been a year. The pain doesn't disappear. It's only, that as time passes you become accustomed to living with that pain. It becomes your normal. You can only seek peace in it. Accept it. Find a way to get through the waves of sadness that strike you without warning, without reason. I find my peace in the knowledge that he served a bigger purpose. That Conor was meant for something bigger than me, as much as I needed him, The Lord needed him more. 

It is in this that I find peace, that I find comfort.

 Never to forget, always in my mind. 

I am a grieving mother, my son is an angel.

 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.-John 14:27