How To Be Grateful When Your Son Died 17 Days Ago

Thanksgiving Day, 2014.

 

Where to begin? I do have much to be grateful for.

I have people, that’s the most important thing. I have people who love me. People who love Ashton.

I have Lily and Blaise. <Those two people alone make me a wealthy woman.

I have a roof over my head right now and a huge, cozy blanket on top of me while my trusted friend and her daughter sleep upstairs at 4:29 am.

I have another dear friend helping me look for a permanent (affordable) place to reside. I can pick up the phone and call over 100 different people right this second if I need to, and they would  answer.

I have enough to make my next car payment.

I have a new nephew on the way, named after Ashton.

I have millions of moments of memories that only old age can steal.

Four of Ashton’s friends with cancer: Reygan, Isaac, Alby and Scarlet are either in remission or going on maintenance treatment.

I have 95 miles worth of gas in my car. I have Netflix. I have a cell phone.

This year has taught me pain like no other. I have wondered at my inability to cry and I get it now. Months and months and months of STUFFING my feelings because what was happening to him was unfathomable. It became the norm. That pain made me grow. I am grateful I handled the last days of my son’s life like a woman. There will be a time to drop the armor.

I was strong for him all the way, deep in to the bowels of that hospital until they pulled open a cold, steel tray to place him on. I went all the way, my man. I am grateful I was able to do that. I am grateful I am a strong woman.