I miss My Tanner so much. It's really hard to Write this blog with this big lump in my throat and on the edge of tears. I am what you would call a private mourner. I don't like people to see me get emotional or cry. But I do cry almost everyday. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about Tanner and wish for a miracle or a sign from him that he is ok. Losing him really shook my faith and I was mad at God for a long time and even though my faith is restored and I am stronger God and I will have a lot to talk about some day. My heart aches for Tanners hugs, and silly little thoughts. Sometimes I think my heart is going to burst from all the hurt I feel. He was Hannah's playmate and would wrestle with her like big brothers do. I miss his stinky shoes, messy room, and the late night homework. All the things we take for granted when we are alive. Tanner was very involved in baseball and his baseball family goes to our church and for a long time I did not want to go to church because I would have to see those boys from the baseball team and their parents. I find my self feeling really sad when I see a boy Tanners age. I just want to give them a big hug. I think why don’t I have my son? Why was he taken? When he died all sorts of thoughts went through my head. Like am I being punished, was I a bad mother, what is the purpose of taking such a young life? Why Us? Well unfortunately there are a lot of parents who have lost children and I found that out quickly when we started going to Compassionate Friends. There is a poem that I want to share with you that hit home for me. Everyone was telling me I was so strong and if it where them they would still be in bed. Well that hurts sometimes because I’m not strong. I’m holding it together because I have two young girls that are here on earth with me and I never want to make them feel that they are not as special to me as Tanner was. I have to picture God with his arms around my son while Tanner is telling him something silly and I must keep my arms around my girls here on earth. There where days I wish I could have stayed in bed and never wake up, but knowing my little Hannah and My beautiful Lacey needed me got me out of that bed every morning. I thank God everyday for these wonderful girls and my best friend Aaron. This is the poem I want to share.
A Mothers Pain
You see me smiling. What you don’t see is that I am screaming behind that smile. You see me go on with everything…work…groceries…life in general. What you don’t see is that it takes every ounce of energy I have to just breathe. You see me alone with my thoughts. What you don’t see is me talking to Him. You see me and say, “I am fine”. What you don’t see is the huge hole in my heart that can never be filled. You see me and think, “She’s back to normal”. What you don't see is that there is no normal for me anymore. You see me and think, “Oh my God, I hope this never happens to me.” What you don’t see is that as much as I long for you to understand me… I hope this never happens to you either. You see me joking and laughing with others and think she must be getting over what has happened. What you don’t see is that I can never forget, nor would I want to. You don’t get over the loss of a child. You see me sad and don’t know what to say so you keep going. What you don’t see is all I really want is for you to ask how I am doing, really, and give me a hug. You see that life goes on. What you don’t see is that the life I had will never be the same. You see that I am strong. Do not be deceived. What you don’t see is that I am weak and weary. Some days I am “6 feet from the edge.” What you see is a mask…a lie. The mask helps you cope with me and me cope with myself. What you don’t see is the raw, sometimes, unbearable pain. You don’t see me being unable to breathe. What you don’t see is my despair. You don’t see me screaming to heaven for God to give my son back. What you don’t see you could never understand anyway, unless, you walk a mile in my shoes…God Forbid.
Cherish your children and each other.
Godspeed to you all.
Kim
A Mothers Pain
You see me smiling. What you don’t see is that I am screaming behind that smile. You see me go on with everything…work…groceries…life in general. What you don’t see is that it takes every ounce of energy I have to just breathe. You see me alone with my thoughts. What you don’t see is me talking to Him. You see me and say, “I am fine”. What you don’t see is the huge hole in my heart that can never be filled. You see me and think, “She’s back to normal”. What you don't see is that there is no normal for me anymore. You see me and think, “Oh my God, I hope this never happens to me.” What you don’t see is that as much as I long for you to understand me… I hope this never happens to you either. You see me joking and laughing with others and think she must be getting over what has happened. What you don’t see is that I can never forget, nor would I want to. You don’t get over the loss of a child. You see me sad and don’t know what to say so you keep going. What you don’t see is all I really want is for you to ask how I am doing, really, and give me a hug. You see that life goes on. What you don’t see is that the life I had will never be the same. You see that I am strong. Do not be deceived. What you don’t see is that I am weak and weary. Some days I am “6 feet from the edge.” What you see is a mask…a lie. The mask helps you cope with me and me cope with myself. What you don’t see is the raw, sometimes, unbearable pain. You don’t see me being unable to breathe. What you don’t see is my despair. You don’t see me screaming to heaven for God to give my son back. What you don’t see you could never understand anyway, unless, you walk a mile in my shoes…God Forbid.
Cherish your children and each other.
Godspeed to you all.
Kim
