Left on the Table

It’s incredible how the loss of a child, of your child, can open up your entire world. It opens it up, starting with you. This can be either a gift or a curse, depending on how you choose to look at it.

I’ve made the conscious decision to let the loss of my Kam open me up in a positive way. I’ve allowed it to let me accept the real love and light that is constantly surrounding me. The energy I was never aware of before, but has always been there. I’ve made a promise to both myself and to him, to make sure to drown out the negative energy, and feed into the positive. It’s not always easy. I’ve definitely got the battle scars to prove it, though they may not be physically visible. They’re definitely there. Constant little reminders of my loss, but also that I’ve got so much hope flowing all around me.

I say this to say that the other day I had the most enlightening realization in my personal journey thus far. And it came from within me, without the push from anything this physical world has to offer. And that’s my life. My real, and good, and honest life.

Isn’t that remarkable? To be able to really think and be sure that despite losing what I loved most, I still have a profoundly good life. I think it is. And I won’t let other people’s judgement of how I should feel or what I should be doing, change that.

People don’t realize that their unintended judgement does in fact keep a grieving person in a very dark space. I don’t want that space. I won’t accept that space. It’s hard enough being in the incredibly sad space that I am most of the day. I can’t allow that darkness to make it even worse.

I’ve come to hate hearing people tell me, ‘a parent should never have to bury their child.’

Who says? It happens. It happens a lot actually. Just because it’s too uncomfortable for you to mention or acknowledge, doesn’t mean that it isn’t happening. Daily. Kam has a brand new little neighbor next to him. Griffin Maxwell. He was just laid to rest a couple of days actually. And I just found out today that one of my dearest friend’s sister in law, who was newly pregnant when I was about 20 weeks, who I met and celebrated being a first time mom with while getting mani/pedis, will be laying her sweet daughter Finley to rest this upcoming Sunday. She was barely a month old.

So who ever thought it would be a good idea to say that to a parent? Are you trying to point out how unfair it seems to be? If so, then please, just say that. Say that it sucks that this amazing parent is having to return their child back to the universe. Because it does in fact suck, for lack of a better word. Or maybe not a better word. Maybe that truly is just the best way to describe it. Sucky.

Okay, okay. Rant over.

But please lovely people, keep that in mind. I know you’re just trying to help, but to a newly bereaved parent, you’re pouring vinegar into an open wound. Albeit, we try to remember your intentions are good, it’s hard to not feel the shame take over in those moments. And the very last thing any of us on this journey deserve to feel, is shame,

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