Thursday, June 25, 2009

change.

I am a creature of habit.  I like traditions.  Routines.  I like to know that on Tuesdays we will go to the library.  Or on Thursdays we go to Young Actor's Theatre and then to dinner at Atlanta Bread Company.  I like advent calendars and Bingo at Christmas.  I like to watch the same movies over and over again.  Because I know the outcomes.  I go to the same restaurants.  They are comforting to me.  I like familiarity.  

I do not like surprises.   I do not like change.   I do not like to have things sneak up on me.  I do not like to be unprepared.  Or unplanned.

But I find myself right in the middle of the biggest life change imaginable - a life without my son.  The second biggest life change was the birth of Michael.  Now.  That is a change I can believe in.  This is a change that I can't accept.  A change that I do not welcome.  

This is not a change that I anticipated.  Michael had a heart defect.  Yes.  But he was not sick.  He was not ill.  He did not show any of the signs that I look for constantly.  That were on my radar on a daily basis.  

He was playing with magnets.  With his very best friends.  And then he wasn't.  
He was happy and laughing and making up fun stories.  And then he wasn't.  
His heart was beating.  And then it wasn't.
In an instant.  My whole world changed.  My whole identity changed.

I didn't get a say.  I didn't have a vote.  Or a choice.
I do not understand.  
Nor do I accept it.

As I was leaving the cemetery today, I was overcome.  With grief.  I laid my head against my steering wheel and cried.  Big tears.  Racking sobs.  I let myself feel.  And it overtook me.  I am good at hiding my emotion.  I am good at holding back tears.  But not today.  Not by myself.   And I let them sweep me away.   

I just want what I had.  I want to give back this change.  I want to check No.  
I want Michael.  Complete and whole.
And ready for Atlanta Bread Company. 
Because it is a Thursday.  And our family tradition.

6 comments:

Rebekah said...

I remember thinking how strange it was that my life changed by not changing (in theory anyway). I was expecting late night feedings yet there were no cries in the night keeping me up except my own. I'm so sorry, I wish none of your family traditions changed and all of mine did.

Mom said...

I know honey...I know. Please know Daddy and I love you and we're thinking about you every moment and praying for you and Stu every day.

Michael said...

Jenn,

I love you and Stu.

Michael Eudy

Lorza said...

{{HUGS}} I have no words that I feel are good enough. I am sorry.

Kim said...

The Little Things. Become the Big Things. You will always have those special little moments that you made you such an awesome mom! And Michael was one of the luckiest kids around. To have You. Love you, friend and here for you always.

Cindy said...

This is a change that no mother or father should ever have to experience. When I read these posts, I picture the two of you together doing those things and it just breaks my heart. All I can say is that we love you and we are listening and we are praying. Not a day goes by that we are not remembering Michael. Love you, Jenn.