Grief is not linear...

Rowan taught me so much, so very much.  During his life, and yes, even after his death.  I try to remember his thoughts, views, and positive way of living...and they are often what keep me going...but I am simply not as strong as he was.  I'm just not.

Some days I feel ok.  Some days I can barely breathe.  Some days I am actually able to smile and laugh...briefly (then, I cry myself to sleep, as usual).  One thing I have come to realize, is that grief is not what I thought it would be.  Grief is not linear.  You don't feel better every day.  You don't get stronger day by day.  It doesn't get easier as time goes on.  You don't start to forget the pain and separation...ever.  No!  Some days are good.  Some days are just ok...you are simply existing.  And some days are hard...very, very, hard.  Today was one of those most difficult days.

I just returned from Seattle again this week.  I have only been home four days, but I was immediately yearning to go to the cemetery.  I know it is only Rowan's earthly body that is laid to rest there, but I feel closer to him there...I just do.  I NEED to visit him there, often.  I usually do so weekly.  Today, I did, again.  

As I pulled up to the cemetery, out here in the Texas Hill Country, something was different this time though.  It was a cloudy, rainy, dreary day...and perhaps that affected my mood.  But, as I drove into the cemetery grounds, I immediately cried.  I cried before I even got to Rowan's gravesite.  That is not typical.  Usually, the tears come as I lay next to his gravesite, talking to him.

The thoughts running through my head as I drove through the cemetery gates this time were:

"This is not fair."

"I should not be visiting my child here."

"He should be with me still."

even, for just a second, the thought ran through my mind...

"I can't keep doing this."

I wish I was as strong as you all think I am, but I am not. 

In this post, I am showing my weakness...my vulnerability. 

Today, was just not a good day

...at least not at first.

I laid next to Rowan's grave, on his National Guard Army blanket, given to him from SGT. Leal, as I always do.  But the view was bleak today.  Winter has dulled the grass and the trees, just like my mood today.  It was sad.  I was sad.

I cried, oh how I cried.  For hours, I cried.

Of course I brought flowers, both for Rowan, and for his friends buried there.

I left Olivia these pink and purple carnations.  I saved one for Rowan's grave though, and one for me to take home too.

Then I walked through the brown and gray, dormant, grass...barefoot. Up the hill to Cristabella's site...

...and back down the hill to Justin's.  I left them each one iris and a small bunch of little daisies.

Then, I returned to Rowan's grave, where I left him beautiful orange roses, and one of each of the flowers I had left at his friends' graves (the ones who are buried at the same cemetery at least...he has many other friends buried elsewhere).

As always, Rowan (and God) never fail to give me signs... even during the most difficult of days, no...ESPECIALLY on the most difficult of days.

This was what the sky looked like today.  It was dark, cloudy, rainy, dreary.

While I was there at the cemetery for hours though, I called two other bereaved Moms.  I needed someone to talk to, someone who understood, someone whose child was buried as well.

All of the sudden, as I talked to them on the phone, this happened. The sun didn't just peak out, it shone brightly...but just for a moment...just long enough to remind me..."I'm ok Mommy.  We are all ok Mommy."

It was my sign.  It was our sign.

A beautiful orange and yellow sun peaking from behind the dark clouds...just for a moment.

It left as suddenly as it appeared, but that was ok.  I had already talked to the other two bereaved mothers.  They had already lifted my spirits. 

I eventually headed home...

with me, I took:

irises,

yellow daisies,

orange roses,

and a pink and purple carnation...

each of the flowers that I had left Rowan and his friends who are buried near him in that cemetery.

I took some with me as a reminder, as a reminder that these beautiful flowers represent these beautiful children...and the precious moments we got to share with them.  

These flowers will die, just as our babies did...

But, I am reminded of the verse:

Isaiah 40:8

"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever."