Those Days

Hi Everyone. There are a few things on my mind today. One, judging by the stats, I can see there are some new readers, actually, there looks to be a lot, unless one of you is looking at the blog 213 times a day, which is totally fine by me. :) Soooo, Welcome, I'm always happy to see new readers, members, and messages about my sweet boy.

Secondly, Can you believe the new look the blog has? I wish I could take credit, but I owe it all to Jesica Montgomery. She came across B Bands on Facebook and helped me network the page, get 200 new fans, and re-designed the blog for me. What an amazing woman huh?

 When I first took a look at the new design, I got that strange feeling I get sometimes, the one where I get so sad looking at and reading this story of sadness, death, faith, strength, and trying to find happiness again...and then I realize it's my story, it is the story of my son. A rush of emotions just floods my existence. It just seems so unreal that this could happen to someone and yet the reality strikes you across the back of the head as to say "Wake up, YOU are living this".

The other day I was just crocheting away, completely focused on the work in my hands. Brody's picture came up on the digital picture frame. I'm getting to the point where I smile and say "Hi honey, Hi B, or hi my sweet lil man", but that day was different. The beginning stages of grief snuck up on me, punched me in the chest and squeezed my heart till there was nothing but tears. All my strength crumbled to the floor and I swear I could see it laying there in pieces right along side my heart.

I hate days like that, they make me feel like I've taken three steps back when I've been doing nothing but running forward for days, or even weeks. Those days make you feel like everything you have been working so hard for... just.  means.  nothing.  because your son is still dead. It makes you kinda laugh at yourself for thinking you were just simply the best at grieving. What in the world were you thinking when you thought things were looking up and you were getting stronger? It's like some cruel joke someone played on you and under their breath they laugh and ask "ha, now Tia, did you think I was gonna give your son back to you?" 

On those days you are the mole. Your that cute little mole in the carnival game that pokes its head up only to get beaten back into it's hole. It's like when you feel like you have built up enough energy to poke your head back into the real world full of laughter (real laughter) and sunshine, grief beats you back into your hole of sadness and makes you remember why you were there in the first place.

I remember reading other blogs in the beginning and reading about how good days come more often but when bad days come, they just break you. I know everyone is different but I know what that is like now. At the beginning, pain is all there is. Hope and joy seem like things of the past. You become immune to the fact that you are feeling nothing but pain and grief. As I'm moving towards six months now, Hope, joy, and happiness are visual. I can even reach out and touch them sometimes, so when the pain comes rushing in, it hurts in a different way because it becomes a balancing act of pain and hope, hurt and happy, joy and grief.

On those days Heaven just seems too far away :(