Tuesday, November 20, 2012

So Happy It's Not Considered Crazy

So when someone has recently lost someone very close is just about the only time that hallucinations of any kind are considered totally normal and ok.

I say that so no one responds to this post with "ho damn...she lost her mind".

So let's go with it.

When my Wolfcub left this earth, I felt it. I didn't need Doc to tell me his heart had stopped. I felt his light go away with his last little heart beat. And he was gone. I didn't "feel" him around anymore. Normally I dream and feel those dreams provide guidance and insight. I have had exactly ZERO dreams of him since he passed. I didn't feel him in my home. He was straight up gone from me.

It's really torn me up. When Matt's grandma, a very dear lady to me, passed - I felt her everywhere for several weeks. Still occasionally I feel her. But my own son? Nothing!? WHAT THE HECK!?!?!?

It felt like everything was just completely severed. He was gone. WHY? Was he mad? Was he done with me? Did we just have a good and full goodbye and there was nothing left? Did he hate me for not being able to save him? Was there just nothing left? Was he reincarnated? TRUST ME, I considered every reason. All of them hurt.

So a few nights ago, I had this moment that just let me relax about some of the things I had worried about. Like his stocking. Put it up? Get rid of it? Hide it? Burn it? What do I do with it? We had an empty hook in our stocking arrangement. And my Little Bird, who is so full of light, didn't think a second about running into the closet, and digging out Rowan's stocking and hanging it up. "There! I fixed it!" She yelled. And she was right. I keep thinking I have to make all these big decisions on how we grieve by myself...but we're all doing this together. I finally relaxed a little bit about the next few weeks and all we are going to face.

I went to bed that night, and as I laid down, suddenly it was like there was a whisper on my chest, like a warm light that felt like when Rowan used to place his hand over my heart when I held him. I knew that feeling. And just as fast as I'd felt him leave nearly 4 months ago, it was like this warm light that was full of joy and peace was sending images into my head, images filled with feelings. Messages.

The beautiful red stocking in our family display, with Rowan telling me that he thought it was cool. Little Bird sleeping peacefully in her bed, glowing in the lights of her little tree, hands engulfing a soft little plush wolf - and the sense that he checks up on her frequently, he loves her, and he loves that she has his old things.

Then this image of two wolves, sad, prideful, and longing as a little naked boy said goodbye as he was leaving the jungle, the sound of Doc's voice reading the farewell scene taking place from the Jungle Book, my son acknowledging the connection of the story his father read to him and how it played into his life - showing that he understood as we did, that our Mowgli had to leave the Jungle.

Then my little boy waking up after open heart surgery, intubated, and smiling and near dancing with joy as he woke up and saw his Dad waiting on him. A feeling of pride. Acknowledging the pride his daddy felt for him then and wanting that feeling to be one that lasted forever.

Then it was like I got to ask him questions. I told him how much I missed him and kept wishing to see him places. Of all the times I pictured him with us and life seemed so much happier.

He showed me a glimpse of my brother's wedding, where I was giggling during the ceremony as I realized that the entire audience was standing and that it was adorable. It was as if he had been there laughing in delight too, just stopping in to to watch.

A lot of my thoughts and questions were met with confussion or shrugging, as if he didn't really know or was indifferent. I felt glimpses of other lights - people I'd known who had passed, almost chasing in and out of the conversation. And after all this, I couldn't stop tears from flowing. Since then, it's like I feel his warmth in our home all the time. No more images and certainly not the rapid fire ones - but it's like his light is just hanging out for a while.

Is it crazy? A little, haha. I thought it was weird how similar the whole thing felt to what mediums describe on TV. I honestly don't care if it was real or not. If it IS real or not. It was amazingly beautiful. I needed it. And it makes me feel like the holidays may not be depressing and horrible after all.

I'm thankful for the crazy.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I'm thankful to feel the joy and light Rowan brought to my life again.

Monday, November 12, 2012


My son died 3 and a half months ago. I still have moments where I just cannot understand how he can not be here. I don't understand why he isn't with me and I'm overwhelmed by the giant hole that will be a part of the rest of my life. When Rowan was sick I used to try to picture him at an event in the future, happy and healthy. That event was my brothers wedding, which took place yesterday. I spent the days leading up to it trying to stay calm and keep the grief at bay while visiting with family. But the day of, I walked into the chapel and it killed me to know that Rowan missed this. Rowan wasn't going to be in pictures. No little tux. Rowan wasn't sitting with his sister in the pews. No pictures of him with the bride and groom. I wanted him to share that beautiful day with us. I had to excuse myself occasionally to go cry for a bit and get it together. This was supposed to be our big Happily Ever After. I was so happy my brother was getting married and so happy to finally have his fiancé become my official sister. It was hard to balance being so happy and so sad at the same time. I tried to do little things to remind me that even though he wasn't physically there, I was carrying him with me. I tied my wolf print necklace to my bridesmaid bouquet so I could rub it when I got sad or nervous.

Between the ceremony and reception, the DJ played a song called Count on Me by Bruno Mars. We sang that song to Rowan all the time. We listened to it on hard drives to the ICU. We played it at his memorial. I lost it. I had to leave and finally let out some of the grief. After that I was able to relax some and just enjoy the reception. The whole wedding was gorgeous. The bride was breathtaking and my dad did a great job with the ceremony. It was nice to have so much of our family together.

This wedding was the first of several Milestones to come. December 10th is Rowan's day of birth, but I don't even know what to write on my calendar, let alone how I am supposed to even be able to breath in and out that day. Then my birthday is the day after. The idea of celebrating it just seems horrifying. Then Little Bird's birthday, Yule, and Christmas with my parents. He won't be there. He won't ever be there. You hope as time passes, each day will get easier. It doesn't seem to be doing that.