One day at a time

So many of you know that I lost my son this past summer. I will never be the same. I lost my husband last year and I wasn’t the same after that. Losing my son is so different and this first year, all the “firsts” are the hardest. His birthday is coming up. He would have been twenty. I cry everyday. I write so that I have some outlet.

I have met a few women who have lost their sons too. I constantly think about all of the parents who have lost children. Sandy Hook. Cancer. Accidents. I cannot comprehend the purpose that losing a child could possibly have. I am told that God has reasons for what happens. I believe that. If He had taken my son first, my husband would have never survived losing his son. But I continue to question, why? Why my son? Why, after just losing his father?

I have a beautiful relationship with my daughter that I cherish more than I ever knew I could. I have a wonderful partner who holds me when I cry, laughs when I do something silly, and just sits and listens to my endless jabbering or story telling. I am thankful for what I have.

I guess the hardest part of all this, besides the pain of a broken heart, is that the rest of the world continues and moves forward while you sit in agony and watch time pass by. I am still trying to live my life, I have to, there really is no other choice. But when someone asks “how are you?”, what am I really supposed to say?