Day By Day...

There have been many nights I've sat and stared at this screen and couldn't find the words to express how I felt.  No words seem to justify the thoughts running through my brain.  I have had no "extreme" emotional outburst lately, so nothing big to talk about.  However, now I have found myself in this type of survival mode of taking it day by day.  Putting one foot in front of the other and moving...NOT moving on...but just moving.  Because I have to.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of Waylon. Little things remind me of him...sunrises, butterflies, and feathers.  Sunrises because he was born in the morning, butterflies because of the poem we had read at his service (see below), and feathers because he is my angel.  I find feathers in the most random of places, usually they are fluffy white ones.  When I see any of those three things it always makes me smile because I feel like it's his way of saying, "Hi Momma."

Most days I go about my usual routines of life with thoughts here and there about him. Some days it hits me so hard that I have to stop in that moment and take in the grief as it consumes every ounce of me.  As I realize again, over and over...my son is gone.  He isn't coming back.  It's amazing that on days like that my van will be on autopilot and I end up at the cemetery.  I usually say my Hello's, adjust his flowers and teddy bear and then sit there and have a good cry.  I cry because he's only a few feet away from me being able to touch and hold him, but cry more knowing that it's not "him" it's just his shell.  I cry for all of the lost dreams I had for him.  I cry because he never got to meet his sister.  I cry because he isn't here.  April 23rd..His due date has passed.  He is supposed to be here now and it's been almost 2 months that he's been GONE.  Gone...

On the other hand, those moments at the cemetery also bring me a sense of peace.  After several minutes of letting it all out I usually start to feel some sort of comfort overcome me.  In my mind, I picture Waylon looking down on me from heaven or either I will "feel" like someone is putting their hand on my shoulder as if saying "It's going to be okay."  Usually then, I know it's time to go.  So I'll say my goodbye's and my I love you's and go back to moving on through the day.  I usually start to wonder on the drive home...Is he really gone?  In a physical sense, yes he is GONE.  But spiritually, he will live on forever in our hearts and minds.  He lives on in those little "signs" that say yes he's still here. 

So for the moment, I'll keep moving on...day by day, looking for those signs.

"These are my footprints,
so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints
never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny footprint,
for now I have wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
for other things.
You will hear my tiny footprints,
in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angel's tears,
of joy and not from pain.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
if you just give me the chance.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
and call each one that grieves.
Most of all, these tiny footprints,
are found on Mommy and Daddy's hearts.
'Cause even though I'm gone now,
We'll never truly part."
~Unknown