11 Months

A dear old friend of mine sent me the photo below, on the eve of Noah’s 11 month angelversary. He said it made him think of me. That touched me, to know he is thinking of me, as we haven’t seen each other for many years. At the time that I received the message, I was feeling just as the photo portrays, heavy with grief.

“Angelversary” is a word I have learned through grief groups. It is a word that is used to mark the anniversary date of a loved one passing. Many say that our children became angels on that day. To me, Noah was an angel, long before he passed away.

As I sit here and reflect on the past 11 months without Noah, I truly can’t decide which is worse, looking back or looking forward. Honestly, I believe we are still in a state of “shock.” We must be, otherwise how does a parent carry on without one of their children? We have endured such grief, sadness, heartbreak and the endless feeling of loss for the past 11 months. When I think about looking back or looking forward, it reminds me of looking in a mirror. It is exactly the same.

I can’t explain the feeling I had on October 4, 2018. I think that is because there are no words to describe it, but I remember it so vividly. As that date draws near, I am reliving it in my mind, and expecting to feel it all over again, only this time, I will likely feel it through every nerve in my body and be so acutely aware of why.

When I reflect back, I realize that there has been over 300 days that I have not heard my boys’ voice or infectious laugh, or had him come through the front door, or send me a text, or wrap me in one of his enveloping hugs, or tell me that he loves me. I look forward, and I realize it is the same as looking back. I will never have those in my future either. Neither direction provides one ounce of comfort at this point in my journey through grief.

As we near the one year mark, I pause to reflect on how others may view someone in my shoes. Do they look at me and think that it has been almost a year, shouldn’t she be “moving on or getting on with life” (whatever the hell that is), or “be grateful I had 22 years with him”, or “just know that God needed him more.” (I don’t even want to discuss that one, but it would be a good idea for people to know that I don’t buy that.) All I will say to that is, when you lose a child, you definitely question your Faith. Last, but not least, I wonder if people are thinking that “Noah would want you to not be sad, or crying, but rather he wants you to be happy.” In my heart, I know that the final point is probably true, but in grief, it is almost like an addiction some days, and it just controls you, overtakes you and almost smothers you. I am aware that grief makes others uncomfortable. Hell, it makes me uncomfortable. Some don’t know what to say, so they say something that they hope helps you feel better. I get it. I am the first person in my life that I know personally that has lost a child. I wouldn’t want others to have to start their day with the painful reminder that their child is gone. It is like the movie Groundhog Day. It just repeats and repeats and repeats. I know my son, and I am sure that he understands why I am sad, and crying and burdened. I also recognize that he knows me well enough to know I will survive, as I have through so many other challenges in my life.

The 11 month angelversary is probably one of the worst ones yet. It is like the “countdown anniversary” because now it is 30 days to that horrifying angelversary, and I am sure I will be extremely cognizant of the date each day. Whether looking back over the past 11 months, or looking forward to all the coming months and years, the only thing that is a welcome constant, is that my love for Noah is forever and I will continue to try to honor him every day, in all that I do.

I miss you Noah, more than you will ever know, and I love you to the moon and back. Love Mom xo