Difficult to Balance

It’s difficult to balance the stress in my life on a daily basis and determine whether or not it is normal stress or  stress amplified by grief.  There is no denying that grief is contributing to the stress in many areas of my life.  When I go to bed at night, my mind may be racing with thoughts of work, challenges in my job, and other problems my mind tries to solve.  Then laced throughout those thoughts, images and thoughts of Weston flash before my eyes causing me to feel that sinking feeling in my stomach.  Then, its time for sleep, at which point I often have dreams about Weston, some good, some bad.  So…I assess my current level of stress in part to the loss of Weston.

I miss him so much, at times it seems unbearable.  I just wish by some miracle he could come back to us.  I miss his laughter.  I miss his business.  I miss his routines in the morning, afternoon, and at bedtime.  I miss doing his laundry.  I miss seeing his foods in the cupboard.  I miss hearing his voice.  I miss holding his hand.  I miss giving him a big hug, and a kiss on his head.  I miss his jokes.

I just finished an intense work stint that started august 17th and required all of my days and evenings up until this weekend.  It was difficult work, and was rewarding in many aspects.  This past few weeks have almost been too much for me to handle and I have almost spinned out of control emotionally  a few times.  Now it’s time for a short break.  I need the break.

 

Still Stunned

This is Weston and his cousin Jocelyn.

Every night when I lay down to go to sleep, thoughts of Weston being gone rush through my head, leaving me with a sinking feeling and a a moment of being stunned once again.  I truly cannot believe that we no longer have Weston.  It is still hard, almost impossible,  to accept that this is the way has to be.

 

A Special Weekend

Erin and I spent the weekend just outside of Nashville, Tennessee with a group of amazing couples, each which had lost a child at some point in their recent past. Nancy Guthrie and her husband David, who lost two of their babies about ten years ago, hosted the weekend get-together and have since written several books for people who have lost loved ones. Her books have been a huge source of inspiration and help to both Erin and I as we have been trying to cope with the lost of our Weston.

The weekend was very difficult for us emotionally as we heard the stories of others who have lost kids, and as we had opportunities to share about Weston and his life. Though it was an emotionally difficult weekend, we were inspired and encouraged by the other couples.  God used Nancy and David to soften my heart toward Him just a little more. I still have a long way to go in this grief journey, but this weekend was a big step for me and I a very grateful to Nancy, David, and the others who contributed to making this weekend happen.

I have an immense amount of respect for parents who have lost children because of the extreme depth of loss that they experience.  The thoughts and feelings that go along with this type of loss cannot be explained to someone who has never lost a child.  For any parent who is able to survive, breath, and continue to function is nothing short of a miracle.  Some parents survive.  Some do not.

If you have experienced loss in your life, I highly recommend the books written by Nancy Guthrie.

blue eyes

Missing our baby today.

Ramblings

I miss hearing him say, “Daddy.”  There are no sweeter words that a Dad can hear.

I have not written as much lately for a number of reasons.  It has nothing to do with the fact that Weston has not been on my mind constantly.  It has to do with the fact that I have a hard time expressing my thoughts at times.  I have several drafts of writings that I have not posted.  It is so difficult to put into words my thoughts and feelings at times.  Some of the things I think about my situation, about God, and about life – I am not sure I believe and once something is published online – it seems to become truth.  So in some ways I try to be selective about blurting out any old thing that comes to mind.  If I did that, most of you would think that I should be taken to a hospital and checked for mental problems.  Well, not really.  That may be too extreme.

I saw a child yesterday who reminded me of Weston.  Most kids do not remind me of him.  But every now and again, I see one that does and I find myself staring at them, soaking up their every sound and every move.  I always hope their parents don’t glance over and catch me staring.  I’m sure it is quite creepy.  Then, if they knew I was comparing their child to my deceased son, they would really think I was creepy.  And perhaps they would be correct to think so.  But, yesterday, I enjoyed watching this child.  His personality and many of his expressions were similar to Weston.

The best way to describe our pain is that of a great void.  Weston was a special boy, with a unique personality.  We grew so close to him while he was here.  He relied on us for everything, and we relied on him for so much too.  Now that he’s gone, we have to sit in silence and reflect on why things are silent.  Our home has an unwelcome calm and quiet about it now-a-days.

“So, do you have kids?“  Blank stare for a moment, as I try to find a way to answer.

“You look tired.”  False grin as I laugh it off, inside thinking about why I look tired.

“Is everything ok?”  In the words of Weston: “nope.”

Somewhere within, I am finding pleasure in my work as I teach those with whom I work about theatre, but more importantly about life and love.  Respect of others.  Dignity.  Trust.  Influence.  I can influence.

Circumstances of life

I’ve been thinking about Weston a lot lately.  Most of the people in my life today were not in my life last year, and therefore they do not know much about Weston.  Erin and I continue to have a hard time coping with the circumstances of our life, but we are doing the best we can.  Most people who see us on a daily basis probably do not know we have a lot of added stress in our lives after losing our son.  Many people don’t even know we ever had a son.  That is sad to me.

We are trying to determine where we go from here in our careers and in our lives in general.  So many decisions to be made in the next year.

We miss Weston so much.

Missing Him

I miss my baby.

Wanting Weston

Well, I’ve really been missing Weston this week, despite my crazy work schedule.  Grief never takes a break for long.  I have had several recurring dreams about Weston, and have longed for him to be here with us.  As I have said before, he seems like a dream – only here for a short 21 months.  I have thought a lot about the night he died this week.  I run down the list of “what if’s” – though I know there were no opportunities for “what if’s.”  As parents, we did our best, making the best judgment calls we knew.  That’s all we could do.  Our best was not enough to keep Weston alive.  It’s a staggering thought.  Parents think they are in control, but in reality, they have no control over death.

While we grieve over the loss of Weston, there are thousands of people who will find out they are pregnate today.  Many will wish it had never happened.  Some will give up theirs to abortion.  Some for adoption.  Some will keep theirs, but neglect them.  We wanted ours.  Wanted is not a strong enough word.  We loved ours.  Love is not a strong enough word.  We still love him, and always will.

Pre-Mobility

This was before Weston was mobile.  Photo taken on our first trip to OKC in February 2007.

Missin’ Baby

Weston in his chair having a meal.