Grief is messy. It is a bitch..
It is weird how you almost feel guilty if you have a good day.
I will have a day when I think I am okay. I will make it the entire day without one tear and only think of Bryce with a smile. Maybe even watch silly videos or look at pictures of him.
Then before you know it….that sneaky bitch has returned. Sometimes it is the same day. Sometimes it is a different day.
It can be something large that triggers the sadness or sometimes it is simply looking at the clock and seeing that it is 8:57pm on a Friday night…the time of the accident.
If only I had that gift of seeing things or feeling premonitions where I could have said to just wait to come home. Just wait even 30 seconds.
Just 30 fucking seconds sooner or later and I would still have my son here.
30 FUCKING SECONDS.
I wasn’t sure if I should share this photo. It is private. It is mine. It is *MY* pain. And you can also see the pain on Rory’s face. This is our pain. This is nothing that a mother should have to endure. But this photo is also raw. It shows the pain of grief. It shows you why grief is a disgusting bitch who can fuck all the way off.
Healing takes time and no one heals the same. I know this. But I also truly don’t think I will be able to heal. Will I survive and learn to cope and live through the pain? Yes. Of course I will.
But will I HEAL?
Fuck no. If my son is no longer with me, I am not whole.
Will this impact my ability to maintain relationships with people in the future? Whether they be romantic or platonic. Will it make me so broken that it is hard for me to maintain friendships? Romantic relationships? I truly do not know. I want to see the future but I am currently having a hard time seeing next week, let alone what I see for my future.
Once upon a time, I envisioned BOTH of my boys in happy relationships with babies. Bringing me those grandbabies to spoil.
And now?
I honestly don’t know.
I don’t even know my work schedule for next week without checking my calendar.
Grief is a B!tch 