Last night we were awakened by the sound of gusting winds. Laying there listening to the blowing leaves; I heard Jonny’s chimes going crazy. I instantly panicked because I didn’t want them to break. Normally I wouldn’t care about chimes but these have been part of my grieving process. When I hear them; I interpret that as he’s here and hears me. It’s weird how little things such as chimes can mean so much in the world of grieving. When we finally got up and saw the damage I got this sudden fear that a tree may have fallen on “Jonny”. I was reminded that he is safe under there and it wouldn’t “hurt” him. His chimes also made it through the storm and perhaps them yelling last night was him telling me.
Jonny is all over the house and the little marks he put on the walls which once I yelled at him for; are now a symbol of him. I touch them sometimes and just close my eyes; trying to remember that very memory. Some days I can’t do this because facing them is too difficult.
This is the challenge with facing what was. Walking down the hall every morning; I am faced with his bedroom. Some days I can look and other days I close my eyes until I’ve turned to the stairs. It’s not because I don’t want to remember him or see his room, it’s just too painful at that moment. I have decided to keep his room as is until the day I join him. His little shoes will remain in his shoe bucket and his clothes will remain in the drawers; some new for the upcoming season that he was unable to wear. I refuse to move them; how could I? He is my child and will always be a part of this family . Some would say that’s crazy but as I said before this is my grief and my child.
I find myself still saying things like “ come in guys” or “ my kids” . It’s not natural for me to have singular and every time I catch myself another dagger goes straight through me. It’s absolutely awful. There is nothing I can’t do to change this and I hate that. The only thing I have control of now is his legacy and belongings .