Thinking of Lev.
How often do I think of Lev?
I was talking about this in grief group, trying to reassure a recently bereaved parent that, although the emotions can be as raw as the first year at times, there is usually more time between emotions.
It doesn't take my breath away as often but I think of Lev a lot. I remember reading someone saying that it becomes like a brick you carry in your pocket. This seems true for me. I am used to carrying it around, but it weighs me down, and often I just reach down and sort of rub on it, knowing that it is an important part of me. Sometimes I don't even notice it for a while, and then my mind floats back.
I was talking to someone this week who said she feels like she has this little sun in her body and she knows she can never quite touch it or she will just melt, but otherwise she does okay. Her son died five years ago and what she said really resonated with me. She also just came back from her son's fiance's wedding, which she thought she could deal with but had to leave the reception when some asked her how she knew the bride and she thought she was going to die.
Note to self: when entering new situations, think of what people may ask and what your response will be... or just stay home.
It's 2:30 in the afternoon, and I've been up since 7. This is a pretty typical day, and I think I have thought about Lev at least eight times, and two of those times I had to/chose to "stuff/extinguish" my emotions. No crying, just missing or reminiscing.
1. I got up and had the feeling something was wrong. Then I remembered that Lev was gone forever.
2. I saw a menorah and remembered Lev won't be coming for the holidays.
3. I walked to a cafe with Liana on my back and on the walk I thought about getting life insurance for Liana (or Jaal). It seems so awful to get it, yet if they died I'd really like to not have to work for a really long time, or maybe I'd want to work, who knows, but it would give us options. People get life insurance for their spouse, since they need their spouses income to support their lifestyle, but the emotion toll of losing a child is pretty debilitating.
4. I met a with a local mom at a cafe to tell her about a class I'm taking at the community college with Liana and give her some marital advice. She didn't know I had older children and didn't know about Lev. It's always a bit awkward when it comes up the first time. It's like saying, "Hey, I'm not the person you thought I was. I had a whole lifetime before I met you. My life is worse than yours, but let's spend time talking about your stupid little problems since mine are too tough to discuss."
5. At the cafe I also ran into a neighbor friend and we talked about the trouble his sixteen year old is giving him. I said that my boys were pretty easy as teenagers, realizing after I said it that Lev never made it to sixteen, so I don't really know.
6. I checked Facebook and saw a post from a friend of Lev's, which is often hard. I wonder what he would do.
7. I thought about the next step in our lives, and what we are planning on doing next year, realizing how difficult it is to rebuild your life around this kind of loss. Thinking about going back to work next summer, or delaying more.
8. I had a little time to myself during Liana's nap, and after taking a bike ride while Tony watched her at home I thought about whether I'm going to dedicate time to writing more about grief or not.
Although I think there is a need to share more writing about our situation, I don't think I have it in me to actually do something as lengthy as a book or public blog. I don't have much time without Liana except at night, when it's too depressing to write much about grief.
I don't think I want to get babysitting so I can write, and doing it here and there for an hour isn't that productive. Maybe years from now I'll be more inspired.
Often I feel relieved after writing down my thoughts, but this post just left me more tangled up inside, with a lump at the back of my throat.
