Sometimes, it’s like it never happened.
Sometimes, it’s like it was yesterday.
I’ve been having a lot of “yesterday” days.
Every few months, I go back and read his story in its entirety. I don’t know if reliving it is a help or hindrance, but either way, I’m accepting it as just another step in the process of grief that is, surprisingly, still ongoing.
Can I confess something?
I know I’ve said before that I write for me. Not necessarily for you, and not necessarily to get comments (though, duh, validation is, well, validating).
But when I return to the series of posts dedicated to him at his first birthday, and I realize only 33 people commented….it hurts my feelings.
Not so much because it’s a reflection of my writing. I know in my heart that those posts are probably some of the best prose I will ever pen.
But because my mommy-heart feels that the recognition given is symbolic of the value of his life to others. And therefore, the lack of recognition (as measured by posted comments) equals little value.
True or not, remember, I’m a mommy here. To think that only 33 people were moved enough by his life to tell me so in the comments…..well, it hurts.
You haven’t forgotten him, have you? Erin didn’t take his place. Please tell me that from time to time, you think of him, too….