Trigger warnings

I went to see the new “fantastic beasts” movie with my girls last month.  We are big Harry Potter fans and my younger daughter loves nifflers, so all in all it was a great family film for us.  Except for one thing, which took me by surprise.

So an aspect of the story which turns out to be a big spoiler deals with the death of a child. A death we see as a flash back. A death which to be honest was a bit of a trigger for me.

Some days I can disconnect myself from things, hear about another family’s tragedy without reliving my own. But other days my loss still feels fresh, or a recent reminder has brought it more to mind.  On those days I avoid situations that will trigger tears, but it is hard to avoid what you don’t know is coming.

Sitting in the theater, realizing what is happening, and feeling trapped was hard. I don’t like crying in public, or even just in front of my kids. I didn’t like finding myself in a place where I felt self conscious about how much I reacted emotionally.

And I found myself wishing there had been a warning, a “this may deal with a child’s death” label so I could know to wait for a day when I felt stable rather than a day when I was going to a movie because real life was hard. 

Happy birthday

Happy birthday, little buddy.  I still miss you! I miss being able to watch you grow. I wonder what 8 would have looked like.  Would you like starwars? Would you play legos? Would you want to be outside all the time? What books would you like reading? 

With your sisters I always know what kind of a party they want. What toys and books make the perfect gifts. But for you I’ll never know. Because while it is your eighth birthday, you will never be eight. This is another year I get to miss.

So tomorrow we will smile, remembering when we did get to hold you. And we will eat cupcakes as a family in honor of the day you joined us. And I will thank God for you, as I always do when I think of you. But I will also be sad because I miss you.

When remembering is hardest

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary, my husband and I celebrated 16 years.  And I realize how hard keeping track of mile stones could be when you have one mark in particular which is painful.

Remembering 16 years meant remembering half of them are after we lost our son.  Remembering I’m turning 38 this year means remembering I was almost 30 when he was born.  It is hard to commemorate years gone bye with out realizing how much he has missed, and how much we miss him.  

I suppose it would be easier to just ignore the numbers, but remembering may be sad, it is also nice to remember my son throughout the year.  He was here for such a short time but he had a lasting impact.