I can’t speak for all parents, but I know a lot of parents that say that they live for their children. Everything that they do is ultimately for their child or children. Have you ever stopped to think how truly powerful that really is. That’s what is means to be a parent, though. You are no longer the primary focus; THEY are.
|from Kole Jax designs|
As a mom of earthly and heavenly children, I have learned the difference in living for them and how I live for them. My boys here need things. They need clothes on the back, shoes on their feet, food in their tummy, hugs and kisses for no reason and because of big reasons, an ear to listen, a shoulder a cry on, and unconditional, relentless love. They want a whole list of things that would take too much time! My little guy that sits in the clouds doesn’t need those things. What he needs is for me to keep going. He needs me to be what I can for his brothers and daddy. He needs me to know that when I told him “goodbye”, it really wasn’t goodbye. He needs me to continually say his name to people I know and people I don’t. Those 7 hours with him will never be enough, but that’s all I have.
I’m that person who always has something going on. It may be hard to believe for some, but I really have scaled down quite a bit. My boys take priority, so if involves them, I’m all in! A little over a year ago, around the first Wyatt’s Day, I began feeling compelled to do something more for him. But what? I would do different things here and there, and I would love what was doing, but that wasn’t what the feeling was telling me to do. Over the last year, I have reached out to others more, putting myself out further than before. It kills me every time I tell his story, and I often have to work quite hard to fight back the ugly cry, but it moves me. Right when I’m about to wrap it up quickly, because I just can’t handle it anymore, I see the look of the person(s) around me. My story speaks to people in different ways and for different reasons. I’m not special, in that, I’m not the only to lose a child and then outwardly talk about it. I notice the way people look at them when they tell their story. Those same yet different facial expressions appear and different emotions are evoked. I’m still not 100% sure exactly what Wyatt is trying to tell me, but his mommy is listening.
Not every parent that has lost a child has to step out there for everyone or do anything. Everyone is entitled to grieve and live with loss in whatever way fits them best. It doesn’t diminish or lessen their child’s value or their hurt. I am just that person that truly tries to find the good in everything. As I began to change, as every grieving parent does, that was one part of me that I couldn’t lose. I didn’t want to. There is nothing I can do to make my hurt less. It is there until I see and hold him again. I can, however, try to help other moms in my position not feel so alone. Today, I had a meeting with several staff members of a hospital about furthering their bereavement program. I was so nervous, but Wyatt heard me. As I walked into the hospital, I told him to walk me through this. He did.
He needs me to live for his memory and to tell his story. What else is a mother to do? With love- Heather
|I provided those that attended the meeting with a folder of resources. The organized teacher in me came out for this endeavor.|