What a bummer... I didn't think I would live this long without you, but I did.
Soon it will be the second anniversary of Xavier's death and what should be his 10th birthday. As we approach this emotional milestone, I feel different. The first year was shock, intense acute grief, guilt, excruciating heartache, disbelief, anger and days where I wanted to eat junk and hide under the blankets with my boxes of Kleenex for as long as I could. That first year and much of the second were really all about survival.
To be honest, I really didn't care whether I lived or died. And my actions reflected this sentiment. I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped eating properly, I became sedentary and stopped caring that my blood sugars and blood pressure were on a constant roller coaster. Managing the barrage of emotions wasn't even a consideration; I was grieving. I was trying to survive on a raindrop's worth of life energy. And just getting out of bed everyday to pretend I was OK, to go about life in autopilot was all I could muster.
Feeling like I was dying or dead inside actually made me feel closer to Xavier. I had no future plans, I had no purpose and I had no goals but to sit in self pity and cry. That was until I realized it's been almost two years now and I am still alive. My grief hasn't killed me yet. It hasn't even kept me in bed for one whole day.
With mixed feelings, I can say I have survived; those first two years of miserable, life sucking and painstaking grief did not kill me (like I may have secretly wanted it to). Instead, I am still here to live this new life. I am stuck here! I am still alive.
So now what?
I have to accept I am going to keep on living despite my loss. I have a conscious choice to make, unlike in the first years when survival was my only choice. I now have to decide if I am going to make this life I can't escape from more enjoyable or miserable. (Although, I still wish it didn't have to be this way at all).
With more joy the faster time goes and before I know it I will be packing my bags to go live with Xavier. This mind shift doesn't mean my grief is gone and I am miraculously healed from this trauma. Quite the contrary. Grief is something you NEVER get over. The death of your child is something you NEVER get over. Losing a piece of yourself is something you NEVER get over. It was just a couple weeks ago where I was really missing Xavier's voice. I had been avoiding watching videos of him for some time now as it is still so painful. But I did it anyways. And tears filled my eyes again, trickling down my face like a spring thaw on a rocky mountainside.
I cried off and on for the rest of that day. The next week, my daughter cried for her brother. She misses him so much and rarely has the chance to talk about Xavier like I do. Her friends don't ask about him like my friends do. So, it doesn't go away. Like the love we have for Xavier, our grief will always be with us.
But, I have decided to choose joy. Starting in January I began taking better care of myself. I was eating my veggies and tracking my blood sugars. I got active and began building new and stronger friendships with people who deeply care about my pain and about my son in Heaven. I am switching off autopilot and taking an active role in my life. This means making future plans, pursuing my career, furthering my education and taking more vacations!
Aside from keeping my mind off the inevitable second year anniversary, these things give me something to look forward to other than dying to be with Xavier again.
Xavier was always filled with light and love and perhaps if I can find that light and love in life again, it will be like a little piece of him is always with me. That is Xavier's Hope.
Soon it will be the second anniversary of Xavier's death and what should be his 10th birthday. As we approach this emotional milestone, I feel different. The first year was shock, intense acute grief, guilt, excruciating heartache, disbelief, anger and days where I wanted to eat junk and hide under the blankets with my boxes of Kleenex for as long as I could. That first year and much of the second were really all about survival.
To be honest, I really didn't care whether I lived or died. And my actions reflected this sentiment. I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped eating properly, I became sedentary and stopped caring that my blood sugars and blood pressure were on a constant roller coaster. Managing the barrage of emotions wasn't even a consideration; I was grieving. I was trying to survive on a raindrop's worth of life energy. And just getting out of bed everyday to pretend I was OK, to go about life in autopilot was all I could muster.Feeling like I was dying or dead inside actually made me feel closer to Xavier. I had no future plans, I had no purpose and I had no goals but to sit in self pity and cry. That was until I realized it's been almost two years now and I am still alive. My grief hasn't killed me yet. It hasn't even kept me in bed for one whole day.
With mixed feelings, I can say I have survived; those first two years of miserable, life sucking and painstaking grief did not kill me (like I may have secretly wanted it to). Instead, I am still here to live this new life. I am stuck here! I am still alive.
So now what?
I have to accept I am going to keep on living despite my loss. I have a conscious choice to make, unlike in the first years when survival was my only choice. I now have to decide if I am going to make this life I can't escape from more enjoyable or miserable. (Although, I still wish it didn't have to be this way at all).
With more joy the faster time goes and before I know it I will be packing my bags to go live with Xavier. This mind shift doesn't mean my grief is gone and I am miraculously healed from this trauma. Quite the contrary. Grief is something you NEVER get over. The death of your child is something you NEVER get over. Losing a piece of yourself is something you NEVER get over. It was just a couple weeks ago where I was really missing Xavier's voice. I had been avoiding watching videos of him for some time now as it is still so painful. But I did it anyways. And tears filled my eyes again, trickling down my face like a spring thaw on a rocky mountainside.
I cried off and on for the rest of that day. The next week, my daughter cried for her brother. She misses him so much and rarely has the chance to talk about Xavier like I do. Her friends don't ask about him like my friends do. So, it doesn't go away. Like the love we have for Xavier, our grief will always be with us.
But, I have decided to choose joy. Starting in January I began taking better care of myself. I was eating my veggies and tracking my blood sugars. I got active and began building new and stronger friendships with people who deeply care about my pain and about my son in Heaven. I am switching off autopilot and taking an active role in my life. This means making future plans, pursuing my career, furthering my education and taking more vacations!
Aside from keeping my mind off the inevitable second year anniversary, these things give me something to look forward to other than dying to be with Xavier again.
Xavier was always filled with light and love and perhaps if I can find that light and love in life again, it will be like a little piece of him is always with me. That is Xavier's Hope.
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