Tonight I find myself a little torn between writing here and writing my son’s obituary. Not surprisingly, I never imagined being charged with this task, yet here I am.
The last couple of days have been filled with all sorts of surreal experiences like this one. We went to a funeral home to plan our son’s transport, talked about an autopsy, even planned for his cremation and requested death certificates. I have a notebook in my house from a funeral home, one that contains my son’s name over and over and over again. There is talk all day about planning the memorial service. It is hard to believe this is our life, but then, that has been the case for months, only now we don’t have our boy’s beautiful face, his kisses and hugs keeping us going.
We are fortunate right now to have family and friends taking turns staying with us. We’re comforted by loved ones here, but there is a big gaping hole in my center where my son should be. I miss holding him, smelling the top of his head, hearing his sweet voice, feeling the little pat-pat-pat of his hand when he hugs me. I can’t believe I don’t get to experience these things again, that he is gone, and then there are moments when I feel this very keenly, very sharply. Jodi and I are doing a lot of clinging to each other as we trudge through these days. We’re reading the notes of support, feeling the love coming from all directions. It all helps a bit as everyone carries a little more of the weight of this grief, but we’re learning very quickly that there is no easy or graceful place through this. We’ve got to feel it all, ride the roller coaster, and hope we come out on the other side of this with some sanity. It won’t be easy; I’m certain of that.
I know many of you are probably wondering how things progressed from taking baby steps toward recovery to losing our boy. I will share this with all of you soon. For now, thank you for being there for us here. We appreciate all of your kind words.
For those who live locally, we are planning the memorial service for the 16th. We will have more details within a couple of days.
C is for Crocodile 
Praying for you. Praying for you. And more prayers. We lost my nephew only one month ago, and every day, I can’t believe this is our life now.
So much love to you.
You write so beautifully in the face of such horror. Thank you for sharing and letting us hold you in the light. Grief is such a terrible roller coaster. Much love to you as you continue trudging.