Avoidance

I'm not quite sure why I'm posting this article. It's not that comforting or encouraging. Maybe I just find solidarity with this mother. I've never stopped avoiding people and questions about my children, but I'm also back to tearing up in public, as she describes.

Seven years after her child's death, this mother is not "healed" or "cured" from her grief. Yes, she has found ways to cope, but coping is not the same as healing. And, I guess I find comfort in the fact that there is no pressure for me to "heal," at least from other grieving parents. They will always get it.

Recently, I was at a party where I hardly knew anyone. These are the perfect parties for me, I am discovering. Shannon and I had such a good time. I ended up talking to another lawyer for quite a while, and the conversation inevitably turned from lawyer-talk to children. I never told him that I am not currently practicing law or that my son is dead. And it was great: in that story, I was a working lawyer brilliantly balancing my career with my two children.

Grief is a never-ending road. I'm learning to be comfortable with always being sad while embracing the joy that I encounter. My due date was October 26, 2012. I should be trying to juggle Weston's first birthday with Halloween. I am, however, very excited about the cute little ghost we will have running around the neighborhood next week. She has been talking nonstop about her little brother lately.

And with that, I am going to adorn Weston's urn with Halloween decorations.