February Sucks Eggs

….February is a sucky month for me. I had a good week, even felt pretty good last night when I went to bed. Woke up this morning and the good mood was gone. February 5 is when my son had his wreck, Feb 24, he died, and on Feb 29, a leap year, we buried him. All the days in between are just painful memories of the dashed hopes and setbacks that occurred all during that month in 2000. I can go for days and weeks at a time with little or no real sadness, remembering only the happy moments of his life, but for some reason my mind won’t let me rest in February. Each day of that month is imprinted with what happened on that particular day. Tomorrow is the anniversary of our last conversation. Cheryl, the boys and I were going to meet Austin and his mother at a park on the fifth so the young kids could play and so Cheryl and Judy could meet for the first time. Judy called me at the park to tell me that Austin had been in an accident, she was at the scene and was waiting for LifeFlight to take off and carry him to Hermann Hospital. She kept telling me not to panic, that he was talking to her and would be all right, but he never was again. I don’t care how many years go by, I will never understand why it had to happen or that I will never be able to hold my first son again. My faith tells me there is a reason for everything that happens, but complete acceptance seems beyond my reach. I know each day will be a little easier, but sometimes I just feel overwhelmed with loss, and with the guilty feeling that I should have been able to save him. I know it’s unreasonable and irrational, I always have known that there was nothing I could have done differently. I’m not a doctor, but I am a father, and it feels as though I failed him, however irrational. I couldn’t do anything but spend endless days holding his hand, praying, and watching him slip away.

I don’t have the luxury of wallowing in all this though, I’m about to get dressed and take the boys to lunch and try to climb out of this mood for the day. Thanks for letting me get this out, it’s been a bad morning. I’ll be better tomorrow

Saving Barbie

February 2, 2013

I lost my youngest child in a house fire just about 28 months ago. exactly 6 months to the day that I lost my dad on the same year. I was at work, my son was at the babysitters…A babysitter I hadn’t trusted in a long time but had no one else to watch him that day. She allowed her youngest son to play with a lighter as she walked across the street to talk to someone…she got her kids out Kaydeenwasn’t saved. My mother, an EMT, and some very close friends on the fire department found him huddled under a bed in their back room where the back door was…only the back door had boxes in front of it and they couldn’t get to him…The loss of a child is never easy. It somehow consumes everyday of our lives…for the rest of our lives. Guilt, however irrational, becomes the norm while we rustle through life trying to hold on. I pray the month turns out better for you and that you are able to get through the month with some semblance of normalcy and without being too overwhelmed. Thoughts and prayers are with you.

my own woman-again

I don’t think anyone would expect you to be better until you just are. Yes, everything happens for a reason, but it doesn’t mean we understand it or accept it when it happen in our lives. I can’t imagine the heartache of losing a child, but I can sympathize with it and I know it hurts a great deal. You will hurt as much as you need to hurt, and you will heal when you heal. Until then, prayers..

thesunnyabyss

the 21st is a year since my dad died, february isn’t the best month for me either, I’ll be thinking of you, hugs

Orange Sorbet

A terrible time for you. I hope that writing it down made you feel slightly better.

In 1942, I gave birth to premature twins. Back then, there was no ob gyn, and no prenatal care, and I was just 17 years old. As near as we could date, the boys were about six months along. And this wasn’t my first pregnancy. They were only alive for hours, and I wasn’t well enough to attend their funeral, which really was just a burial in our church grounds. But one day, and my prayer is that you

also come to realize this, the Enemy was rejoicing in my guilt. I was far, far away from my Father’s side. So cliche and cold sometimes to say everything happens for a reason, but it does…..to everything there is a season, and a time, and a purpose under the sun. Turn it over to Him, lay it at His feet. Rejoice in the blessings you have. You are not alone in your feelings. Praying for you.

berry143

February 7, 2013

Random Noters: that is so sad.. im sorry to hear this story. but hang strong, i do think there is a reason for everything as well, though however hard that may be to swallow.