In Flames



Thursday night as I watched my husband light fireworks, sparks flying in different directions and colors I couldn’t help but wonder what those fireworks looked like from Heaven.  I’m sure the view is pretty amazing.  I watched the smile on Patrick’s face and my heart ached.  He would be such a good daddy.  Later as I drew Josh’s name in the sky with the sparklers I prayed that he could see what I was doing.  There isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t think of him.  No matter what else is on my mind, no matter how busy I try to keep myself, he is ever present.

As I carefully drew the letters I wondered what he would look like now – 4 and 1/2 months old.  He would be smiling for sure.  Would he giggle as I sang a silly song to him?  Would he drift off to sleep in my arms as I quietly rocked him at night as I stroked his curly hair?  All of those tender, precious moments…

My heart hurts thinking about what should be.  What almost was.  What never will be.

The tears have been falling a lot lately.  Every day feels like one step forward and about a million back.  Yesterday I stayed busy.  I cleaned, I cooked, I was creative, I watched Dexter and played games with Patrick,  and then, at the end of the day, I crawled in to bed and I cried.  Patrick tried to hold me close.  He tried to calm the tears and the fear that was happening.  Sometimes I feel like I’m right back there.  Stuck in that hospital bed reliving the nightmare over and over and over.  I can’t stop it.  The memories overwhelm me, consuming me with fear, panic, and pain.  I’m guessing this is part of the PTSD.

There has to be a better way to control it.

I took the photo below last night.  There was just something about the way the sun was setting behind the clouds… It was beautiful and all I could think about was our sweet Josh, looking down on us from somewhere above those clouds.


“Sometimes I still just can’t believe you’re gone
and I’m sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven,
maybe we’ll make it through one more year” – Lifehouse

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