Last Night……

 

I laid on my back, watching the fan blades rotate.

In the dark, tears streamed down my cheeks, pooling in my ears.

I sighed, I grieved, I wept, I shuddered.

I reasoned with myself, “calm down dear.”

There was nothing pushing me to tears, no great motivating factor.

Other than my personal snow globe being steadily shaken.

“This is just not fair.” I said to myself.

How can one person, one little boy, have so much taken?

I feel cheated, I feel attacked, I feel pillaged, I feel beat down.

Someone stole something from me, from my family, from my son.

Only, I don’t know what they took, or whom to blame.

How do you point a finger at something you can’t even see?

I wonder if my family will ever be liberated?

Free from the what ifs, the bated breaths, the unknown?

Everyone says, “But Beth, you are so strong.”

I am not. A part of me died. I am wounded, and I am struggling.

I can no longer see the innocence in life I once did.

They have it all wrong.

My son is strong, my son is brave, my son is a gallant little soldier.

I pull in my strength from him.

He makes me appreciate what is truly important.

He gives me hope, confidence, intrepidity, and peace of mind.

He does not need my help accepting this, instead he helps me.

He holds my hand when it hurts too much.

His shining light makes me smile when tears well up in my eyes.

He holds me close when I grapple with our new reality.

He will always be my pillar of strength.

When you read this some day baby….. thank you for being nothing but yourself.

Mama loves you.

Picture taken 3 days prior to diagnosis, I cried like a baby when I found this.

Taken about a week ago. Same child, less hair. Isn’t he inspiring?