I guess I'm blessed to hurt this bad...

Will I ever again go through an entire day without crying? I keep thinking I'm all cried out and then, nope, wait, there's more...I am tired of crying. I truly am. It's exhausting. I feel like a wrung out dish rag after I cry. 

I had a pretty good day. My mind was clearer than it has been since the evening of October 21st. I got quite a bit accomplished work wise today. I even stopped at Sam's Club on the way home to buy cuddle duds for when we go to the Nebraska game on Friday. Oh, that's right, my Iowa friends would find it more tasteful if I referred to it as the Iowa game being played in Lincoln, NE, on Friday. :-) I lost a significant amount of weight over the last year and that loss of insulation might be the death of me. I am feeling like I can't get warm and it's not even winter yet. I might be in trouble when it actually turns really cold here.

I got home from work and had a bite to eat and then that horrible thought popped into my mind again.The thought that I wasn't enough for Brendan. My mind knows that Brendan knew how very much we loved him and that we would do anything for him, but my heart...my heart is broken, damaged, rent in two, shattered. It agonizes over the loss of part of itself. My babies are a part of who I am. I cannot separate myself from them. Brendan was 31 yo, Shaylee is 25, and Maddy is 22 and I STILL have a hard time falling asleep if I haven't heard from them and know that they are okay. It's weird, isn't it? I'm 50 years old. My days of raising my kids are done. I thought the need to know that they are okay, to be assured that they are safe and sound would diminish some when they became adults, and yet it seems that need is as strong as ever. I sometimes have conversations with myself when I am tempted to spam text them until they respond to me. I tell myself, "Laura, this is ridiculous. They are grown-ups. It is not necessary to constantly be checking in with them." But maybe that was wrong. My mind asks another question, What if I would have checked in with Brendan one more time? Would he still be here if I would have sent one more text? What if I had called him and been able to tell from his voice that something was wrong? Would I have a reason to be typing this post if I had just reached out one more time? I'll never know. I will forever be haunted by these "what if's". 

This morning my husband used Brendan's phone and sent me the videos of his Senior Recital from when he was wrapping up his college career. I looked at the notification on my phone and saw I had a new message from Brendan Mead. For a split second my heart leaped with joy...and then I remembered. I would give ANYTHING to get another message from him, another hug, another smile, another phone call, another dinner together, another walk, or another trip. The last time he was home he asked me what we had on hand for breakfast. I told him what I liked to have and he said it sounded good to him. I took a cup of berries (blueberries, red and black raspberries) and poured them in a bowl. I mixed them with Vanilla Greek Yogurt, added granola and fresh honey. And then I smiled as I watched him grab another handful of granola to add to his bowl. He ate it and sent me a message later that day telling me he really liked what I fixed for him and that it was so sweet of me to get it ready for him. I think I told him, I can't remember for sure, that it is my absolute pleasure to do things for my kids. It makes my heart happy. If I didn't tell him that, I for sure thought that. And, oh, how I wish I could do it for him now. I want to have him here to make gingersnap cookies for. I want to watch him gobble down Paula Deen's Corn Casserole we have on holidays. I want to make grandma's cherry jello with cinnamon applesauce and red hots for him. I will still have a reason to make that because Moody-moo is also a fan of gma's jello.

Another memory surfaced today. I walked into my room this past Mother's Day and saw a pretty pair of purple earrings lying on my pillow. Brendan had put them there for me for a Mother's Day gift. He was very sweet like that. Last Christmas he gave me a $100 gift card to Maurices to buy new clothes because he was so proud of me for losing weight and getting healthy. How can such a huge part of my world be gone? And here I am again, crying. 

Is it possible for a momma's heart to heal from losing her son? It does not feel possible to me right now. It seems cruel to expect a mother to continue on when there's a gigantic piece of her heart missing. As I type this I can see one of his many Mickey's over by his piano. I can see him as a 4 year old meeting Mickey Mouse for the first time and giving him the sweetest hug. I can hear him saying, "You are very kind" to his asthma doctor when he was just 5 yo. I remember him taking a handful of gummy worms to our pastor because he knew how he loved gummy worms. And then I can see his crest-fallen face when that unkind man rejected his gift. I remember taking Brendan aside and telling him that he was so amazing for his thoughtful actions and kind heart. I want to pull him aside right now and tell him that he is still amazing. He is kind, smart, funny, loving, creative, tender-hearted, and talented. The world needs him here. I was not ready for his light to go dim and then go out completely. I just want him here now, with me. 

This week is hard. I have much to be thankful for. I know. It is going to take a Herculean effort to make myself focus on my "haves" and not on what I don't have - Brendan. My sweet hubby just brought me another kleenex. There might be a lot of typos in this - it's hard to type when you can't see well through all the tears. Okay, what I do have to be thankful for. My God, my family that is still earth-side, my church family, dear friends, my job, my home, a reliable vehicle, my dogs, and something to look forward to - a granddaughter we should be meeting very soon. Please, Lord, help me remember to choose my focus. 

I guess I am also blessed to hurt this bad. I don't think it would hurt this bad if I didn't love him so much. I know I will see you again, Brendan, and I am looking forward to that. I will do my very best to focus on our many blessings while learning to grow around the grief of losing you. I had no idea when you came into my life as a little guy at only 5 lbs 5 oz. that you would leave my life 31 years later. It really wasn't enough, but you know me, son, I always want more. :-) Love you.