Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down. ~Bede Jarrett
I've been M.I.A. lately. Writing about Caleb, whether other people read it or not, is helpful sometimes. Most of the time actually. But there are times, like these past few weeks when writing is just too much. It brings up too many emotions that are already making it hard just to live life each day.
Brandon tells me that Caleb is "our thing". I can't expect other people to remember him, to celebrate his life the way we do. He says that by expecting that from everyone I'm just causing myself more pain. I KNOW he is right. It makes sense. He's our son--we are the people responsible for his legacy. Still, sometimes is nice when people remember. It's nice when grandparents include him in their counts of grandchildren or when people bring him up in conversation. I know I can't expect this from everyone all the time, but occasionally it's nice to know that people still care and remember him and the life that was cut way too short.
Caleb is "our thing", probably more so "my thing". I was the first one to know he was growing inside me, to feel him move, to hold him, to kiss him. The moment I found out there was a baby on the way my life changed. I started making all these plans. I had him grown-up and married off before I was 15 weeks along. Now here I am with nothing but a memory and a broken heart.
Oh...and some flowers....