My life's disappointments before and since losing Maxie don't add up to even a small pile compared to the mountain that is his loss of life. They are the things that happen to us all because sadly, life is messy. What happened to our lives the day that Maxie stopped breathing goes so far beyond "messy". But, words are inadequate. Woefully inadequate.
Because there is no explaining & there is no imagining, there is no way to verbally elevate the loss of our son to the degree at which it stands - "outshining" all of the awful and horrific happenings I could have ever imagined happening to me, anyone I love, or to the little boy - the person - who meant more to us than anyone ever had before. I feel almost embarrassed that I've even tried to explain it and I am not really sure what to do moving forward.
5 comments
Abby, dear, no. We've never met but no. It is abundantly clear that losing Maxie is the horror of horrors, the unspeakable. What keeps me coming to your blog every day? Your transparency. I'm not transparent to the world: I am anonymous -:),introverted/ private - but like you, I suffer not being able to make sense of loss. You speak the unspeakable by sharing your feelings. And then - alongside you, I get to love that precious Moesy and Ted. xoxo, CS
Although I so wish you never had any reason to start this blog, I think you are doing so many remarkable things by sharing your story. You are honoring Maxie and helping all the people that read your posts to understand what a light he was and still is. You are helping "laypeople" understand even a smidgen of what it's like to lose a child, and you are helping bereaved parents all over have a sense of community. You are doing so many wonderful things at once and I am very thankful that you've been willing to do it. It is very clear that there are no words to express the horror of losing your beautiful child, but you've done such a great job of bringing people closer to understanding. xo
For what it's worth, I think you have to do what feels right to you. if you get to a point where writing the blog doesn't help you, then you stop doing it. And, "help you" can be a combination of process losing Maxie, give words to the grief that parents who lose a child feel, educate the fortunate who have not had to suffer such a loss, or whatever else. But, I don't think you worry about what it's doing for anyone else, or what it looks like to anyone else, or that it trivializes the enormity of your loss. I know there are a number of us, some of who are in the horrible club with you and some fortunate to have never lost a child, who get "something" from reading your blog and are happy you are writing.
I know words will never begin to touch the depth of your loss, but you certainly have shared with me and everyone who reads your blog, what you are able to using mere words. Your emotions fill the spaces between the lines. We are able to begin to feel your loss, and are heartbroken with you that your sweet, angel-faced little boy is not in your arms right now. He is gorgeous in every way imaginable. You have shared such a beautiful gift with us, by sharing him. You make me miss Maxie, and I've never met either of you! He certainly left a void in this world that will never be filled, but has found a very special place in my heart. I know I am not alone in this. We love your Maxie, and we love you and Ted and Mo.
The picture of Max in this post is heart melting! He is so beautiful.
Post a Comment