My box

I didn't wake up this morning expecting the flood of emotions that would hit me. These days, I can usually function better than I had ever expected that I would...mostly it is more about learning how to cope with the loss of Mark, instead of the pain actually lessening. I don't feel that the pain, anger or absurdity surrounding Mark's death has gone away...I only know that I am learning, very slowly, how to manage it. The only trouble with grief is that you never quite know when it is going to spill out of the nice box that has been made to contain it-the place deep inside that forms as a response to deep pain. The place reserved for all of the ugliness and rawness of grief.

My "box" started out plain and always open...tears started my morning, accompanied me all day and were especially intense at night . As the weeks and months pass, I have started to decorate my box...so that it is more presentable in public - a box that everyone is more comfortable with being around. Also, a box that I can take with me when I go out and see precious little boys running around or riding in the shopping carts at the store. The box even comes in handy at home now when I come across one of Mark's toys or lost socks. I have put a lock on my box for just such occasions. Oh, everything in the box is pounding and pushing and trying to get out, but the lock holds it in...most of the time.

Having my cup of coffee and my youngest daughter still in bed, I sat down at the computer to catch up on all of the blogs that I follow. Even with the first blog that I read, I learn that today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Mark doesn't quite fit into this category, however, the pain of losing a child is the same pain. Always different circumstances, different families with different lives, but all with the same, very real pain.

It is true that most of the blogs that I follow have the same element of loss or trial and so, of course, today, most of the posts are tributes to the sweet children who aren't here with us anymore. From miscarriages and stillbirths to medical complications and cancer...so many parents have suffered the loss of a child. And, as I look at the pictures of their precious children, I see Mark in my mind...laughing, crying, running and hugging. I feel his arms around me and hear his sweet voice saying "Mama". I look over at our family picture that now does not include him sitting in my lap...and I begin to cry. And cry. The lock has failed on my "box" and the lid has been thrown wide open.

I decided to write this post...wanting to do something with all of the sadness, but knowing that there isn't any way that my words can really make anyone understand what it feels like, unless you have been there. As I struggle to make sense of it all, my dear Macy wakes up, climbs in my lap and wraps her loving arms around me...still half asleep and oblivious to the turmoil in her mother's heart. My tears slowly dry and I gather all of the grief that has spilled out and place it neatly in the box once again...until next time.

I love you Mark...I miss you.