I feel cheated that I am not preparing for back to school time. I feel cheated that I am not online purchasing new clothes for him. In preparation for his last year of elementary school. I feel cheated that I won't buy a new pencil box. Or a new backpack. Or markers and protractors. Or to go see who his new teacher is. That Orientation day will be just another day. To get through.
I feel cheated that I will look at holidays not with glee. But as more days to brace myself against. That holidays will never again have the same feeling of wonder. Of joy. That I don't get to experience them through the eyes of my child. My sweet boy who still believed in the power of magic. And of a jolly old man in a big red suit.
I feel cheated of the tween years. Of the teenage angst years. Of the college years.
I feel cheated that I have to contemplate the what could have beens. Instead of the what is. I feel cheated that I will never hear the sound of his voice again. Or his laugh. Or see his smile. I will never receive another random note on my work space from him.
I feel cheated. Because he was cheated. Of life. And all those future years.
And I am angry.
Because I was cheated. Of his life. And all those future years.
5 comments:
wish I had words for you.
I feel so bad for you and Tammy's right ... there are no words to make this better.
Love from Scotland,
Catherine
My thoughts and prayers are continuously with you.
Ditto.
And Jenn, I hope you rest in knowing that your anger is perfectly normal. Hang in there. And thank you for your transparency on this blog. It helps you, I'm sure. It also helps us know how to best pray for you.
Much love,
Stacie Smith
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