Today as I was visiting Mckenna I watched a father tend to his son's grave. It struck me and I couldn't help but watch this father showing his love for his son. He was cutting the grass around the headstone making sure it was perfectly cut, putting everything in its place, moving things around just a bit to make it perfect. I found this so touching and yet so heartbreaking. This is his way to parent the son who is no longer here for him to parent. When he was finished he took a step back looking up at the sky, then looking at his son's spot rubbing his eyes fighting back the tears. I felt like I should look away because this was his time with his son and so personal but my heart broke for him. This is not the way things are supposed to be. Your not supposed to bury your child they are supposed to bury you, your not supposed to make sure their graves are perfectly kept and well cared for your supposed to watch them grow. It is so unfair on so many levels that he has to go visit his son's grave, that I have to visit Mckenna's grave, that I have had to see 3 babies burried next to Mckenna in 2 1/2 years. My heart breaks for each and every one who has lost a child, because it is a pain that is undescribable, unimaginable, and forever lasting. Thinking about this father who has to go to bed tonight without his son.
10 years ago today, I experienced the second worst day of my life. I found my mother dead in her bed. Even 10 years later, when I say those words it takes my breath away. I know it's not a very delicate way to say it but it's the truth. I don't relive every detail like I did for many years. For years, following her death, I couldn't get those images out of my head. Every detail from the moment I unlocked the door, to the funeral home taking her away. Each moment played out often. What an absolutely awful day it was. The days leading up to her death also haunted me. I always felt I didn't do enough. She died sad and alone in an apt that was horrible. I had reached a point in her alcoholism of distancing myself. I couldn't handle the heartache and the broken promises and the constantly finding her drunk and the drunk phone calls. I distanced myself and she died. The what if's, the shoulda, coulda, woulda's were ruthless. I still hear her voice the last ti
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