Journal Entry

June 24, 2022

Grief, when it’s not in a catastrophic storm, is like a ringing in your ears. It’s loud, constantly there and annoying. My stomach is upset and I’m almost always on the verge of throwing up. My body is physically trying to reject this life.

There is no amount of time that would have been enough time with Truman. This will always feel unfinished. I constantly feel homesick. Is there a time where I’ll feel at home in my body? In this loss? Will I ever be comfortable with the human I’m regrettably becoming? I am so broken. This loss brings so many secondary losses. When I lost Truman I lost my life and who I was. I lost the person I was. The secondary, secondary loss to that is that my children lost the comfortable home. They lost the mother they had which adds to the devastation of losing their brother. They lost our happy healthy family. We will never be the same. It’s changed our identity. It’s changed to projection of our lives.

I think part of why a new life feels like a betrayal is because the only reason I have to build a new one is because he’s gone. New routines. A whole new me. I’m rejecting the life because I’m rejecting the new me and it’s because I never asked for this. I don’t want it for Truman. I don’t want it for my family and I don’t want it for me. I’m forced into a life I hate. Every moment is being made to live a life I despise.

I have a beautiful garden I hate. I hate it having to be there and I hate that I find myself wanting to be in it and it’s where I can talk freely to Truman. I hate new changes in my house because the only reason they are there is because he’s gone. I hate thawing out less chicken for dinner because he’s not here. I hate saving so many left overs because I shouldn’t have so many. I hate having 4 piles of laundry instead of 5. I hate having just two kids sleeping peacefully in their rooms because I should have 3. I hate having a puzzle to put together on my table because I would have never done puzzles if he were still here. I hate any change that I have because he’s not here. Except the puppy. He’s the only thing we have because Truman isn’t here that I love and don’t feel guilty about.

The moment Truman was born my life was forever changed.

The moment Truman died my life was forever changed.

Perhaps one of the worst feelings in this life is to know you can physically survive the loss of your child. Even when the only thing you want to do is die. Just breathing feels like a betrayal.

-Truman’s mom 💙💞💙