Every day is a new one because no day is like the one before. The passing goal is to make each one better and to continue on the journey we have been luck enough to have.
Normally I have a quote for these blogs, something which relates to whatever topic I'm about to talk about as I go. Today, there is no quote or words of inspiration I can offer that will soothe the dull ache in my soul. It's been awhile since I needed to put my feelings out there, but today, I need the release of the feelings that rest so deep within.
There has been so much that has happened over the course of the last few weeks, such change which gone to the very core of life. I left a job that has been a huge part of my life and my family for the last five years. I have gained employment in a new profession, every day is new and is a chance for me to take a deep breath and try to move forward in my life.
Change is not a bad thing. I will repeat. Change. Is. Not. A. Bad. Thing. Right now it is the most beautiful thing in my life, especially when those changes are positive and have a good impact on my future, I can justify that...
Normally I have a quote for these blogs, something which relates to whatever topic I'm about to talk about as I go. Today, there is no quote or words of inspiration I can offer that will soothe the dull ache in my soul. It's been awhile since I needed to put my feelings out there, but today, I need the release of the feelings that rest so deep within.
There has been so much that has happened over the course of the last few weeks, such change which gone to the very core of life. I left a job that has been a huge part of my life and my family for the last five years. I have gained employment in a new profession, every day is new and is a chance for me to take a deep breath and try to move forward in my life.
Change is not a bad thing. I will repeat. Change. Is. Not. A. Bad. Thing. Right now it is the most beautiful thing in my life, especially when those changes are positive and have a good impact on my future, I can justify that...
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| Kaiden, Frank and I at the bench site. |
It started with one of my best friends texting me about the Memorial Bench her and her husband are doing for Dominc's Memory. It is something I am looking forward to, I want to be able to go take the boys on a hike, have a picnic and talk about him and life. It will feel like he is there with us every time we are there. It was no big deal, she asked me about something I wanted written on the bench, I asked for more time to think about it, because it is a big thing to consider. I want to write more than Beloved Son. Beloved Brother. Forever in Our Hearts.
From there, I started looking at my desk and thinking I needed new pictures of the family for my desk. Simple enough.... until I wondered if I would put Dominic on my desk. The people in my new workplace, I don't think they know... I prefer if they don't look at me and think "poor grieving mother" as much as possible. So... how many sons do I have? I want to put him on my desk... he lives on in me ever day... but, will I upset others? When people ask me his name and how old he is, what do I say? "He will be forever 5 months old." There have been a million things I've learned to say to comfort the OTHER person, they will never have the words to comfort me.
It became something that was bothering me right up through lunch... to the point that I started having flashbacks of him. Him as he grinned at me as I lathered him up in the bathtub. His beautiful smile as I asked him if he was going to make big splashes for me before he started throwing his limbs in all directions in the bath, getting the entire bathroom wet. The way he laid his head against me as I talked to him, listening to me like a little man, as if he couldn't get enough of my words. The way I sang to him in the car when he would cry, and how at the sound of my voice he would stop. How he looked the day they laid him in my arms and I had to say goodbye.
From there... I cried. It took my entire lunch to get myself back under control. Bringing myself to heel, I walked back into work.
That's when the phone calls started coming in. Either the client or the company's name for the next three hours revolved around the name "Dominic". What on earth have I done to be tortured so badly with his memory today?! What did I possibly do?
And then finally... before leaving work, in the parking lot before driving, curiosity got the best of me. I googled... St. Dominic. To read the entire text as I did, please feel free to Click Here, before continuing on or after if you wish. St Dominic. Of all the stupid things to look at when I was getting ready to leave for work, that is the one I chose to do. Things popped out at me immediately: Patron Saint of Astronomers; Died in August; He was named after Saint Dominic of Silos, who is said to be the patron saint of hopeful mothers; "before his birth his barren mother made a pilgrimage"... the list went on. My son loved stars... he had a glowing star bed-buddy in his crib, that was the start. I was once considered barren myself, I had been told I couldn't have children and I had went through an incredible journey with all of my boys (I consider my bonus boys a journey too).
It became something that was bothering me right up through lunch... to the point that I started having flashbacks of him. Him as he grinned at me as I lathered him up in the bathtub. His beautiful smile as I asked him if he was going to make big splashes for me before he started throwing his limbs in all directions in the bath, getting the entire bathroom wet. The way he laid his head against me as I talked to him, listening to me like a little man, as if he couldn't get enough of my words. The way I sang to him in the car when he would cry, and how at the sound of my voice he would stop. How he looked the day they laid him in my arms and I had to say goodbye.
From there... I cried. It took my entire lunch to get myself back under control. Bringing myself to heel, I walked back into work.
That's when the phone calls started coming in. Either the client or the company's name for the next three hours revolved around the name "Dominic". What on earth have I done to be tortured so badly with his memory today?! What did I possibly do?
And then finally... before leaving work, in the parking lot before driving, curiosity got the best of me. I googled... St. Dominic. To read the entire text as I did, please feel free to Click Here, before continuing on or after if you wish. St Dominic. Of all the stupid things to look at when I was getting ready to leave for work, that is the one I chose to do. Things popped out at me immediately: Patron Saint of Astronomers; Died in August; He was named after Saint Dominic of Silos, who is said to be the patron saint of hopeful mothers; "before his birth his barren mother made a pilgrimage"... the list went on. My son loved stars... he had a glowing star bed-buddy in his crib, that was the start. I was once considered barren myself, I had been told I couldn't have children and I had went through an incredible journey with all of my boys (I consider my bonus boys a journey too).
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| Dominic and I | Mother's Day 2015 4 weeks and 3 days old |
If I had to give a label to my journey it would be learning how to feel. I have never felt so much in my life. I have always been on the more reserved side with emotions, but this experience has taught me that I cannot do that anymore. I miss my son. I miss the life I was building with him in it. I miss everything... but I cannot change what happened or what will come. All I can do is hope for a future that makes sense. A future where I can be at rest with his memory and his eternal beauty.
