Here we are again, another January. January has such a morbid significance nowadays. I hate that.
I hate so much about this new existence. The NEW me! The NEW family! The NEW Normal… (I think I especially hate that phrase)
Because that’s what we have after losing a child, we have a new normal.
Whereas I used to spend Christmas Eve stuffing five stockings, now I stuff four.
Whereas I used to let Nolan pick our birthday lunch and I would pick the birthday dinner, now I just eat what I eat without much thought on December 22.
Whereas January used to just be The New Year, now it is the month in which I buried my son.
He died on 12/31/12. He was buried on 1/5/13.
The day was cold and grey and quite miserable, of course. Par for the course for January in the midwest. Now, there is a cold, grey, miserable haze that covers each and every day that I live my life without my precious son.