Thursday, June 4, 2009


Sister Smak told me that when Henry died a piece of me would die with him.

I honestly didn't know if she was right. I didn't know what to expect.

She was close. It's more like a permanent injury, a cut that won't heal. I'm slowly bleeding, every minute.

Distraction helps. I can't staunch the flow, and I don't try to. I'm aware my compulsive knitting is a coping mechanism. It seems benign enough. Strangely enough I'm enjoying running, again a distraction. Whenever I sit, quiet, without distraction, I feel it, hear it, watch it bleed.

It makes me feel vulnerable. I feel wounded, weaker, and afraid that another hit might make me falter. Proactively (compulsively?) I'm trying to be very careful with myself, my family, my life. Seems a reasonable way to cope.

Right now I'm keeping up with the bleed. Taking my theoretical iron. I remember seeing a man in my 2nd year of medical school with an H/H of 1 and 4 respectively. White as a sheet is an apt descriptive term. He had a slow bleed, so slow he hadn't noticed.

Is that me?


...tom... said...


Perhaps making it, knitting, something more than benign might be 'a good thing'..??

I have an online acquaintance/friend who does a lot of crocheting of baby items, etc. for parents/kids of active duty military families.

Her blog is linked above.

The Marine Corps Kids blog is found here.

Not sure what your thoughts about the military are. But I am pretty sure you are pro family and pro kids. (Yes, that was a joke ...:minism:...)

Not trying to offer you a distraction, needed, wanted, whatever. Perhaps simply something to check out.

Thinking only the best for you and yours...


Sybil said...

No my love you are not like your 2nd. year patient,,,you know you are bleeding, and you also know that one day it will stop..just as I is only 1 year today sinse my beloved goddaughter died and I too am still bleeding..albeit I am sure much slower now, and I know that there are even times when it does stop..
It is just the heavy heart that has not lightened as yet.
God Bless,
Love Sybil xx

Koen Perdieus said...

I lost my son 12 years ago (he was 6 years old and died of a brain tumor). I compare my feelings to an amputation: the cut of the amputation has healed, it isn't bleeding anymore. But I am not the same person I was: I will never be whole again and will always be missing a part.
Wishing you strength from across the world,

A Doc 2 Be said...

Henry. He is still with you just not in the form you are accustomed to.

In the 23 years since my first son passed away, I've become accustomed to not having him with me. After 23 years, I still don't like it.

I wish I had been able to say goodbye to my son. I wish I could have told him how sorry I was for all my shortcomings as a mother. I wish I could have told him how much I loved him.

Embrace that your little man, Henry, got to know all those things from not only his mother but from his entire family, and extended family.

He knew love. He knew compassion. He knew running, and laughing, and joking around. He knew life, no matter how short.

I believe, Henry still does.

Many continued blessings to you and your family while you walk this lonely, sad road for awhile.

It sucks, it will get better, and I'm sorry.

rlbates said...

Wishing you strength and peace.

Anonymous said...

No; that is not you. You know you are bleeding, and there is a difference.

Consider this a compress for your wound.

Love, RRNC

Anonymous said...

People ask me how my grief is different after time has passed- my answer is that it is "less raw". I wish that for you. It never goes away and you really don't want it to - however it does get less raw over time.


AngelMc said...

my mother said grief is like climbing a long steep hill, you climb and climb and you think you will never get to the top of the hill, but one day you get to the top and it gets a little easier............

Anonymous said...

It's been awhile. I have you on my favorite list but I save you for moments when I want to remember what is important in life and what is not important. God Bless You. Toni