Hemingway's Six Words

"For Sale: baby shoes, never worn." -Ernest Hemingway

A six-word story? I didn't know they existed. But I read this and thought, "wow, profound". Those six words, they tell an entire story ... one that I feel like I've lived. But in the spirit of brevity, I'll leave this post at that.

Right Where I Am: Four Years

HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY DYLAN! My dear firstborn, we love and miss you so much. I'm participating in Angie's Right Where I Am project again, and after reading through last year's post, I realize that a lot of the emotions remain the same. I'm still incredibly humbled by those who remember with us, still touched by those who take the time to send a kind word our way. The tears flow a little bit stronger this time of year, the emotions just a little bit more raw than usual.

This year, we welcomed Dylan's newest little sister to the family. Perhaps the emotions were heightened a little by postpartum depression. Both of my daughters now have birthdays in May (Dylan's in June). I texted a friend: "I gotta stop pumping out kids right before the anniversary of my son's death, it's not helping prevent PPD."  I say it in jest, but it's probably true. 

I updated my Facebook status yesterday to say, "Happy Birthday Dylan! Happy 1 Month Vivy! Ahhh, the roller coaster that is motherhood." It's difficult to have a newborn at home in my arms and to be "celebrating" Dylan's birthday. It's like juggling emotions. I keep hearing people say that our newest daughter looks like Dylan. I love hearing his name. Sometimes, it's the little things, you know. Now that our older daughter is 3 and is now officially a BIG sister, she understands what newborns are and she understands that "Baby Dylan" is a part of this family. It's especially lovely to hear her say Dylan's name.

I think the grief at 4 years is a little like this post. It's a all over the place, a little stream-of-consciousness if you will. It resurfaces when you least expect it, in good ways and in bad. Not a day goes by where we don't think about our son. We made our annual birthday donation to the children's hospital. It's good, you know, that we've been able to take this experience and make what we can with it.

"You Got Dealt A Crappy Hand, Now Deal With It!"

Sometimes TV hits so close to home, like art imitating life. I can watch it, and think, "Yea, been there, done that." Nothing like Grey's Anatomy teaching you a few life lessons, or better yet, reinforcing and solidifying what you've already experienced. Last Thursday's episode was no exception. I learned what the medical term "A.N.D" meant . . . Allowing Natural Death. Had a "been there, done that" moment. And then I practically heard Karev yelling, "You got dealt a crappy hand, now deal with it" at ME! The grief seems to bubble back to the surface at the strangest times.