It is that time of year.
Usually, that is a fun thing. Fall weather. Thanksgiving plans. Christmas decorations and plans. This year has been a bitch. The first of everything. The 23rd of each month is another anniversary. His birthday…the first without him. My first Mother’s Day without him. My first birthday without him. His baby brother’s birthday is in a week…the first without him. And then will come those holidays… But before Christmas…only 2 days before on the 23rd of December…we will be reminded that it has been one whole year without him. One year without his smile. One year without his laughter. One year without his hugs. One year without his silly personality. One year without hearing the words “I love you too”.
It was this time last year that I was asking Bryce if he had plans for Thanksgiving yet. His dad and I divorced when he was almost 5 so he was used to alternating holidays and getting two of each. To be honest, right now, I can’t remember what we did for Thanksgiving day. Was Bryce home with me and Carter? Was he with his dad and we had our own celebration another day as we always did when he spent a holiday with his dad?
In the middle of November last year, for Carter’s birthday, I bought him a trampoline. Bryce put it together for his baby brother. I told him I’d help. He didn’t take the offer from me. He did it one day on his own just to see his brother smile.
At the end of November last year, he helped me by putting up Christmas lights on our old house because he knew how much it meant to his baby brother. It wasn’t for me. It was for Carter. To see Carter happy.
That kid fucking loved hard. His family. His friends. He loved with his entire being. Apparently, it was too much love for one heart to hold.
December 23, 2022
We were texting that afternoon…only hours before my firstborn baby was taken from me…and I asked if he had finalized his plans for Christmas yet. I would be off work and so would he and was he planning on being home or with his dad for Christmas? He had previously said that he might be going to meet with his dad’s family at his aunt’s house but hadn’t confirmed yet. He said he’d figure out what he was doing and let me know so we can figure out what we were going to do and then said that he was going to meet up with friends to ride. I told him I loved him and I would see him after I got home from work that evening.
I never saw him again. At least not without his amazing loving heart while it was still beating. He was taken from us…from me…on his way home that evening.
We didn’t get our Christmas together.
We didn’t get any more days together. He didn’t get any more days with his baby brother. He didn’t get any more days with his dad or stepmom. He didn’t get any more days with his many other siblings. He didn’t get any more days with his friends. He didn’t get any more days with the love of his life. He didn’t get to live out the rest of his life. Get married. Have kids. Have grandkids.
The first year is a year of “firsts”. When you have a baby, their first year is full of firsts but those firsts are wonderful milestones. Landmarks.
However, the first year after you LOSE your baby…those are different milestones. They aren’t good ones. They’re painful landmarks. I don’t think the pain will ever lessen but I can only hope that I eventually get better at handling the pain.
Grief is a B!tch 