Today my oldest son – who as I write this I realize I no longer need to refer to as my oldest – walked into the house and told my dad that he wanted to go check on his mom to make sure she hadn’t died.
I was sitting in the office. I was picking a photo for Brody’s obituary. It’s very painful to look at his photos. Brody is incredibly handsome. I know I’m his biased mom, but he was beautiful. He was happy and full of life. I don’t know what took that life. I just don’t know. I don’t know how to explain to Bryson that I am not as fragile as Brody was. That he shouldn’t expect that I will die soon.
I was proud of myself today. I’m not proud because I got things done, although they were hard things that I never ever wanted to do – pick my son’s urn, post on facebook that he died. I am proud because I expressed gratitude. I was welcoming to guests. I was hopeful. I enjoyed listening to the birds. I played with my son. My husband and I watched some TV. We laughed and we enjoyed it and that was encouraging. I loved and was loved. That’s what life should be.