A year came and went. We went to the cemetery with my husband's parents and sister, had dinner with his family, went home and spent the evening there with friends who insisted on being with us. We appreciated it.

Like so many things in the ever present grieving process, it was all at once worse and better than I expected. I think in some ways the days leading up to it were worse. In some ways a year was just...another day without him. Another day where most of our thoughts were directed at someone who wasn't there....and really, how different is that from most days?

Our surviving son is suffering so quietly. Quietly enough that he denies he's suffering at all. At a year past Max's death, Donovan rarely speaks of him at home. Will offer that he misses him if asked, but does not say that he's sad. At his parent-teacher conference in December, we learned he spoke of Max more than once a day. Spoke of dark themes;death and loss and abandonment. What have I missed with this one while lost in my own nightmare?

My husband and I have torn down and rebuilt our marriage so many times in the last year. I used to say you don't know someone until you move in with them. This probably remains true for most couples. For us, and for a sad, grieving portion of parents out there...you don't know your partner until you've lost everything together. Until you've had to put your marriage back together piece by piece, all while completely falling apart on your own. Marriage for anyone is a constant process. Ours is a work in progress, but for now, we're on this road together and glad as we can be to be so.

I've always been a person to occasionally step back and say (even if it's only semi-honestly) this is who I am, this is where I am right now.

At 18, I stood in awe and a little shock that I was 18, a high school graduate, and a mother of a toddler. At 22, I was amazed that I had ended up married to a man I loved with all my heart and children I worshipped beyond reason. At 24, I'm standing in the remains of my family wonder how I got here? I loved my family so much, and for them, finally, I did so many things right. But I'm 24, I buried my baby and there are days when I think that I'll lose my husband and older son as well. I'm constantly rewriting this story and I wonder a lot of the time if the next chapter of this blog is just going to be me figuring out who the hell I am after all this, if I ever even knew in the first place, and who I want to be after it.

Comments

[Nell]

Sending huge hugs and love. I lost my husband when I was 26 and expecting our 3rd child. Although I thought I was watching her carefully, my 5 y.o. was grieving in ways I missed. She said little at home because she didn't want to make me sad. Hard to do, but trust that Donovan is finding ways to express himself. That he is talking at school is a good thing. It will take time, but with parents who love him as you do, he will get through this. Your presence is doing more than you know. Hang on, one second at a time is good enough.

[Kate]

Nell, I'm so sorry for the loss of your husband. Thank you for sharing the experiences of your daughter in the aftermath. Though in so many ways you wish no one else would ever have to know what profound loss like this is like, it's also comforting to know you aren't the first or only to experience it.