Sunday, May 24, 2009

The day my angel got his wings...

The actual date might not be the same but the Sunday before Memorial Day will always be the day we lost Kyle. I was thinking about it all day yesterday, watching Kobe and thinking that Saturday was the last full day we had with Kyle. Did I stop and appreciate it? Did I hug him and kiss him and tell him I loved him? In hindsight it seems impossible to just be living normal life and have no idea such a huge horrible thing was about to happen to us.

The anniversary of his death this year is especially difficult because this is the year that Kobe is the exact same age Kyle was when he died. Kyle's birthday is 3/13 and Kobe's is 3/31 - their birthdays are 2 weeks apart and Kobe's date is the reverse of Kyle's. So in just a couple weeks, Kobe will be older than Kyle ever got to be. There is an odd sort of healing in that though. In a way, I will get to experience part of what we missed with Kyle (and continue to miss) through Kobe. I have a 7 year old son, but I don't know what it's like to raise a 4,5,6,7 year old boy. At least I will get to experience that through Kobe, or at least I pray that I will. Of all people I know that you can never "expect" a tomorrow. So I'm just trying to cherish each day with the children I am blessed to have here with me and continuing to miss my sweet Kyle more than words could ever say.

This is one of the first blog posts I wrote, 2 years ago on the anniversary of the accident. The words are still just as true today as they were then. I've changed a few things to reflect the time difference.

Today is a difficult day. It is the 4 year anniversary of the accident that took Kyle's life. I've felt it approaching like a dark cloud. There is a heaviness to it that hangs over me and permeates every moment. I don't like to think back about that day, the things that I experienced that day are memories I would gladly have erased from my brain. I never want to forget a moment of my time with Kyle but the memories of that day are like a poison in my brain. They sneak up on me at the most unexpected moments, driving in the car, watching Katie, Kobe or Kaleb sleep, hearing a song on the radio will bring it all back, the flood of horrific images and memories I try to keep locked away in a dark corner of my mind. If I let myself walk around every day remembering those things, I couldn't function, I'd have to be locked away in a loony bin. How can you live and be happy while having images of your child bleeding to death in your mind? Once you have felt the coldness of death on your child's skin and watched his casket lowered into the ground, how do you ever laugh at a silly joke again? It's something I have struggled with for 4 years now. I feel like I have gotten better at it, I've learned how to contain the bad memories and lock them away and try to only remember the good. They do sneak up on me from time to time like a sucker punch to the ribs and knock the breath out of me and leave me reeling, but I have learned how to manage it and put the demons back in their cage so that I can carry on with the life that I have to keep living.

One thing that hasn't changed is how damn much I miss that boy. My eyes water just typing that sentence. I never knew that missing someone could actually be physically painful, that there is a longing so deep it feels like your stomach is being ripped out. I miss so much about him, his big brown eyes that looked into a soul so much older than his 3 years, his sweet hugs and kisses, the way he danced when he had to go pee, his bed head hair in the morning, the way he adored Katie, the sound of their voices laughing and yelling and playing and fighting, his hammer punch, his love of Ninja Turtles, animals and especially sharks, how shy and quiet he was around people he didn't know, his light-up-a-room smile, the feel of his little fingers squeezing my arm like he so often did. I was the only "security blanket" he ever needed. He was so different than both Katie and Kobe, he had such a unique personality that was all his own and I loved - love - him so much. There aren't words to describe how much I miss him and the void his absence has left in my life. How I would love to see what he would look like now, 7 years old, no longer a baby at all, taller, older...what would his voice sound like now? What would he be into now?

As the years pass sometimes I feel like I am losing him all over again, year after year. I didn't just lose my 3 year old, I lost him at every age I won't get to see him grow into. His birthday and this day always remind me of that.

I think people sometimes are afraid to bring him up, like I'm not thinking about him and by saying his name they will "remind" me of him and hurt me somehow. That couldn't be further from the truth. I don't really know how to describe it but the best way I can explain is like this... If you have kids, do you forget about them if you are away from them for a couple hours? Of course not right? Your children are a part of you, even when you aren't with them. You are always thinking of them and even when you are distracted with something else, they never leave your subconscious - you are always aware of them, even in your sleep or busiest moment. That's how it is with Kyle, he is in my realm of awareness just as much as my living children He is always in my thoughts, when I think of "my kids" there are always 4 names, 4 faces. Just because he isn't physically with me, he is still "with" me just as much as his brothers and sister.

As the years pass by without him, my love for him remains as strong as ever. The only thing that changes is that I just miss him more and more.


Anonymous said...

my thoughts and preys our with you

Tressa said...

I can't imagine your pain and wish you didn't have to. My prayers are with you and your angel.