I’ve been struggling with posting. It’s self inflicted, but a struggle still.
I know that my posts often make people sad. I wonder if others think I should be over it or move on. I wonder if others get tired of reading about my struggle, my sorrow, my sadness.
I do know that writing is a huge help for me. It helps me to process and quite frankly, helps me to be able to function and continue on.
From the time I started writing about losing Wyatt and what I’ve been experiencing, I’ve written for myself. To try to process things, to try to make sense of things for myself.
I could continue to write and just stuff it in a drawer or leave it on my phone for my eyes only. But what I’ve experienced and Wyatt’s life is worth more than that. Yes, Wyatt’s sweet life is worth more than to be hidden or forgotten. His sweet spirit deserves to be remembered.
I want more than anything for him to be remembered. I want the sweet kind 8 year old who was a friend to everyone, who stuck up for other kids, who was anxious to invite others to play, who was talented and competitive, yet humble and kind to be remembered. I want to remember every last sweet memory I can squeeze out of my brain. I want those who knew him to remember him and those who didn’t to know who he was.
So I will continue to write. And I will continue to post. I have a back log of writing that I’ve just held onto, not posting for whatever reasons were in my head. I’m going to work on posting the backlog along with what is to come.
I’m going to post my writing. I’ve decided that online platforms are a pretty cool thing. You can choose to read what you want. And not read the things that you don’t want to. It’s a choice for all of us.
The idea that I might help someone is pretty significant to me. Trying to find help in those early days of grief was hard. Northern California, or the rest of the world for that matter, doesn’t have a whole lot to offer in the area of grief. Losing a child is a big deal. And thankfully many never experience it. But for those that do, it’s helpful to know you aren’t alone. If one person gets something from what I write, well, that’s more than enough.
The other side of this is for those who know someone who has lost a child. I will admit that I never would have known what to do, what to say. I stumble over words and often feel like I can’t find the right words to say still when others are hurting. I hope I can share something that might help someone who is trying to provide comfort. I’m by far no expert, but my experience may be helpful to someone else.
And if my writing just hangs out here, that’s ok, too. It’s my processing. My thoughts. My feelings.
So, as I stated when I first started my blog, feel free to stay a while. I’m happy to have company. But I also know that I am now made up of the things that other people fear. I am not for the faint of heart. I carry knowledge and an understanding that is heartbreaking, at best. Regardless of all of that, I welcome you, but I also understand that some may not want to stay very long. I love you all the same.
Almost two years later, is it better? No
Does it hurt less? No
It doesn’t hurt any less. In the blink of an eye, and sometimes for no real reason, I can be transported back to the day, the moments when my heart realized that we were losing Wyatt. When I felt my heart being torn apart. When I felt the heartbreak that couldn’t be healed. When I felt like my world was ending.
And my world did end. As I knew it. As it was. As I was. I’m still the same, but different. I’ll never really be the same person again. I’m still grappling with that and struggling with what that means. There is beauty in what I was and in what I’ve become, what I will continue to become. There is also horror and pain and anger and sadness.
So this is what I’ve decided. This is my little corner of the web. I’ll continue to share. The good, the bad, whatever comes. I welcome you to visit, comment, stay briefly or for a while. Whatever works for you. If you don’t want to visit, that’s okay too. That’s the beauty of the internet and frankly, the written word no matter where it lives. It is there for the taking for those who want. For those who don’t, it can be left.
I am grateful for you all. Those who read. Those who comment. Those who quietly read and do not comment. This grief thing belongs to everyone individually. There’s no guidebook, no set of steps or rules. We all just have to do the best we can.
I know that some of the things I post can be hard to read. I know I’ve written things that some might take offense to. None of this is personal. I would never try to shame anyone, blame anyone, call anyone out. I am fully aware that people say things and do things they don’t mean to. Believe me because I’m sure I’ve unintentionally done that. But knowing that about myself, I want to share with others. Even when you say the wrong thing, it’s okay. None of us are perfect. But through sharing, I believe we better understand. In my opinion, at least you did something. But there we go anyway, this is all an opinion. It’s feelings and thoughts. And no one says any of it is right or wrong.
And if nothing else, memories of my sweet Wyatt will live here. I will continue to share pictures, stories, thoughts of him. My greatest fear is those memories slipping through the cracks in my memory and being lost forever. I’m going to do my darndest to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Here’s to sharing a journey and remembering my sweet, sweet boy and his sweet soul. 💙