One Year

A week from yesterday it’s going to be one year since Keven passed away. The 11th of every month is hard, I usually feel out of sorts and cry more around all the memorial dates - 1 month, 5 months, 9 months, etc. It’s all been leading up to this - the big one - one year.

How can it be just a year? Wasn’t it just a matter of weeks ago that he left us? It doesn’t seem possible it’s been this long. People say grief gets better with time, or easier, or less painful. I don’t think that applies to losing a child. From what I’ve learned from all the parents I know - it never gets better, easier or less painful. For me, time has made me miss him more. The gap between seeing him gets bigger and bigger.

But we have no choice. We carry on. We get stronger simply because we’ve done it longer, like lifting weights the longer you do it and the more weight you add, the stronger you become.

Twelve months since I’ve heard his voice, seen his face, touched his skin, smelled his scent. It’s been even longer since I’ve seen a smile, heard a laugh, or joked around with him. The last few months were dark. I saw him withdraw even more. He stopped coming into my room at night to talk - maybe he knew pep talks from Mom were nice but useless.

When he died, I discovered an unknown part of my heart and soul - this deep cavernous pit that I’d been unaware of until that day. It’s cold, dark, lonely and oh so very painful. The day he left here, I plunged deep into that agonizing hole and have been slowly trying to crawl out ever since. I make progress. Some days, I plummet back into the abyss and have to start all over.

But it’s not all darkness and tears. I laugh, I have fun; I walk my baby boys, Chester B and Evo. I’ve been writing my book and trying to encourage others. There are some amazing people in my life that allow me to be me and don’t talk me out of my feelings. I’m doing my best at each moment. Isn’t that all each of us can do?

A year ago I had my son, my dog, Sugar, a boyfriend...this year I have memories (although Peter and I are still close, we talk on the phone a lot). None of us knows what tomorrow will bring. Life is constantly changing.

So as 8/11/21 approaches, I’ll discover what it feels like to say “my son’s been gone for a year”. I planned nothing for that day because I don’t know how I will feel. If you’re wondering what you can do - just drop me a message saying you remember what day it is and you’re thinking of me.

Another thing that most mothers of children who've gone before them love to hear is - the name of their child. I notice when people refer to him as "your son" vs. "Keven". Just hearing his name out loud from someone else is meaningful to me.

These are the kind of things that help the most.

As always, thanks for reading here, you're all an appreciated part of my journey!