Life takes Effort

October 4th, 2020 with be 2 years since Noah died. I try not to think of it in number of days, because the number is so large. It also brings to the forefront in my mind that the number keeps growing, even though I wish it would just disappear.

I have to confess that I really do try to put on a brave face each and every day, which is more for the people around me than me. I can’t help but feel that I am “stuck” in this continuous cycle of grief and as much as I try to break free, it has a hold on me. I am known to be a very logical person, and that side of me knows with every fiber of my being that Noah would not want me to feel the way I am feeling. He would feel guilty because he would never want me to hurt the way I do.

As I was driving today, I realized that I wasn’t really aware of where I was. I was like a machine, just doing a job. I had to get from point A to point B. This is not the first time this has happened, and so I know that when I am in this place, my mind is going to flashback to that horrible night. I replay it over and over and I see his lifeless body being aided by machines, and I feel so helpless. Why couldn’t I have done something! I am his mom. My job is to protect him at all costs. I feel like I failed him, although logically I know I didn’t, but in my heart I can’t help but feel this way. I would have traded places with him in a heartbeat.

Unless you have lost a child, you cannot begin to know the daily heaviness that a grieving parent carries. You get up, you go to work, you do your job, and you come home. You don’t really want to be around people because that takes effort. Everything feels like it takes effort. My house needs cleaning, the laundry needs doing, the meals need to be prepared, just like in every other household. However, these daily mundane tasks, that I did so easily before, now take effort. Life takes effort.

Some days, I sit back and just watch people, especially when I am at my trailer. I see families laughing, getting ready to go to the lake, chatting around a campfire. Such joy and happiness they are sharing. Here is where the mind does its own thing. My mind and heart get such a heaviness and sadness, because we use to do those things as a family too. Many would be thinking, “well you still can.” Yes we can, but when we do those things, you feel the massive void where our boy would be. It takes effort now to do those things, but we do try to do them because Noah would want us to. It is strange living a life “doing things” because someone who is no longer here would want you to.

This year has been a difficult year for many, especially with Covid-19 being everywhere. Businesses shut down, schools shut down, borders shut down, and people getting sick and dying. Those are the negatives of this crazy year, but it has also brought positives. People are being kind to others, doing for others, spending more time with their families, and checking in on others. We can all learn from the pandemic. If you know someone who is on their own, take the time to check in on them. They may seem like they choose to be alone, but they don’t, really. Those people are very vulnerable during this time. If they don’t respond, try again. Your act of kindness and compassion could save that person, and I am positive it would be appreciated. I know that those people that have been there for me, even it it is just a text saying “i am thinking of you,” have certainly made a mark on my life. Some days, those texts have made the difference between a good day and a bad one. It is the one thing that takes very little effort.