If things had gone according to plan, I would be posing my two month old son using pillows and teddy bears to prop him up with a sticker on his onsie that said “2 Months”. We’d take pictures with Pierson holding Merrick. Mom with Merrick. Dad with Merrick. Then one with the whole family. All of us laughing and smiling at how dang adorable our growing family is. We’ll have already bought the frame in anticipation of todays activities so we can print a photo and put it right up. Paul would make sure he put the new nail exactly where I wanted it, he’s always so gracious in that manner. He lets me be picky about where I want to hang things on the wall. It’s pretty awesome.
Where was I…oh right, the picture. It was supposed to be a fun milestone in our youngest sons life. Instead I sit here, angry with myself for not having hung Merrick’s picture up yet. I told myself the day he died, and to others in the days and weeks that followed, that I would hang his picture up right away to help me stay present with my grief. A brief, daily blood let of pain is so much easier than ripping a Band-Aid off a hemophiliac of sorrow.
But I haven’t done it yet. In fact, the frame is sitting on the dining room table, ready and waiting. I see it every day. There’s no excuse. This is the kind of thing that sneaks up on you when you’re dancing with Grief. I think I’m so on top of this whole process and then I realize I haven’t even taken the first step I vowed to take.
It makes me wonder if I’ve taken any steps at all.
I must have.
I started this blog. That’s a damn fine step. I can be proud of that. This isn’t easy, putting my unfiltered emotions out there for the world to see. And I feel good about it, that’s the thing. This feels natural to me. I’m enjoying this even though the reason for my being here sucks donkey balls. Something beautiful (well, beautiful to me) has now been added to the growing list of things…good things, happening as a result of Merrick’s short life. I’ll take it and go a step further and pat myself on the back for being here. For writing this post. For feeling this good. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.