Well, we made it through another Good Friday and Easter.
Kind words, thoughts and "hope you just make it through this time...." have been sent our way.
Eggs were dyed and hunted.
Only when they go to sleep or when driving by myself in the car do I fall apart. Wailing over memories that suddenly pop into my head about blue babies and blue clothing.
Smells assault my senses and my memory. Making me feel like I'm going in insane. I felt like I smelled like Dreft and Mustella lotion all day. None of these items do I have in my possession. I threw these fragrances away almost four years ago.
Sulphur from boiled eggs burn my tongue and singe my olfactory hairs. Reminding me of one the happiest and most joyious time of my life immediately turning to complete shit.
Lilies remind me of staring at my son's urn on the altar for an hour while inhaling the sweet perfume of their siren song.
Easter baskets remind of me of rushing to shove a few mangled wooden pieces in the hands of friends who were taking care of our girls that eve while I stood vigil with my son. The breakdown of holding a tiny basket for my son who would never partake in his bunny and book remained until his funeral.
Easter afternoon reminds me of cleansing my dead son's body and getting him ready for the Medical Examiner's office to pick him up. To hack, saw and desecrate his beautiful body.
I'm still at a loss of what day to pin my dread on. Good Friday? Easter? April 10th? April 12? All are constant shitty reminders.
I try not to say anything to people close to me about my feelings of anxiety and sadness of him. Mainly because I'm afraid they are going to say, "when are you going to get over this?"
The answer is never. I don't plan on getting over him - ever.
Please read the following piece from a friend about death, dying and April. If you have any spare change, consider donating to these worthy causes. I donate in Maddie's name every year. Hoping she is leading Thalon around by the hand in heaven while they look down at all of us fools.