This is a really rough time of the year for my oldest and me. March was the beginning of the end for our family of four. It is when Raymond went into hospice.
I don't know if it is because of the surgery or what, but I am having even a rougher time this year. I cry at everything during the day, and at night I sob for hours. I mean deep, gut wrenching sobbing.
I upset the oldest the other day by posting a song on FB. I wasn't really thinking about him seeing it when I posted it. It is just a song I love and it was running through my head. I did not mean to add to his anguish.
My youngest never talks about how he feels about missing his dad or anything about that time of our lives, but I also recognize the shell he has put around himself.
Sometimes I feel horrible about my grief because I know others have suffered so much more. I also find myself wanting to slap some people silly who go on and on about how they are grieving over something that is really nothing but the loss of a goal, one that can still be accomplished.
Since I am still singing the song in my head, I am going to post it here where my oldest can't see it.
If only we could go back.
When I was pregnant with the oldest I would read Winnie the Pooh stories to him in the womb. Raymond would play him classical music. Some days I would love to go back to that time and live it all over, even if I knew Raymond would still die at the same time. Nothing would have to be different, it could be the same as it was, it would just be having all those special little magical moments that happen during a day again.
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