Tact
Posted: July 12, 2013 Filed under: Dangerous Book for Boys, The Story of a Mother 1 CommentYesterday Evan saw this picture of Christian on the computer.
He started laughing. “Christian’s nose looks like a pig nose because it doesn’t have any of these!” [sticks a finger in each nostril]
Only a 4 year old could get away with saying that. Thanks for keepin’ it real, Evan.
Non-update
Posted: July 9, 2013 Filed under: The Story of a Mother, War and Peace 2 CommentsI honestly have nothing new to say. If I tried to blog every day, it would look like this:
I did something fun, and then I cried.
I did something boring, and then I cried.
I did nothing, and then I cried.
I couldn’t stand to be around people, and then I cried.
I slept, and then I cried.
I took the dog outside, and then I cried.
It was the Fourth of July, and then I cried.
I visited with family and friends, and then I cried.
I saw pictures of a baby, and then I cried.
I heard that my friend had a baby, and then I cried.
I sat on my bed, and then I cried.
I stared out the window, and then I cried.
I ate something, and then I cried.
I didn’t want to eat anything, and then I cried.
I read a book, and then I cried.
I stayed in pajamas all day, and then I cried.
I cried, and then I cried some more.
I thought you might not be interested in reading a bunch of short entries like that, so when I don’t blog for a while, just pick something off the list and assume that’s what I’m up to.
Acknowledged
Posted: June 28, 2013 Filed under: The Story of a Mother 1 CommentI’ve talked a few times before about my neighbor’s sister losing her baby several years ago. In the months that followed her son’s death, she seemed to be doing ok whenever I saw her. So I thought I shouldn’t bring it up or ask how she was doing, because that might ruin her mood or remind her about this awful thing. Or it might seem insensitive somehow.
Now, being on the other side of the experience, I can tell you that no matter how good of a mood I’m in or how ok I seem to be, I have not forgotten that Christian died – and asking me about him won’t make me feel bad. I’d much rather have you awkwardly ask how I feel or what I’ve been thinking than to completely ignore the topic.
I understand that we don’t talk about death much, so it’s uncomfortable at first. Let me break the ice, then: my baby, Christian, died about two months ago, an hour and a half after birth. I won’t feel bad if you use words like “death” and “dead” instead of euphemisms like “lost” and “passed away.” It might be easier for you to hesitantly tiptoe around the subject of Christian’s death, but I promise you won’t offend me by talking about it (as long as you aren’t trying to cheer me up with an “At least…” statement). I want Christian to be acknowledged. And I want my feelings to be acknowledged, too.
Jarom
Mika
hilleries 