Today I am angry that Marcellus is gone. I want him here more than anything and the fact that he's not just makes me so so angry sometimes.
I am angry that I'm super busy and don't have the time I want to cry for my boy, to curse at the world and get it out.
I am angry that Marcellus's heavenly BFF's first birthday is tomorrow and neither of them are here.
I am angry that fall is approaching, the season in which my boy lived and died.
I am angry that Halloween stuff is out already. Halloween, the only holiday Marcellus was alive for. The one his birthday is so close to. The reason he got to have a pumpkin hat in the NICU, because he was born before Halloween.
I am angry that we more than likely won't be able to go to MN for Marcellus's first birthday. We won't even get to be at his spot.
Who am I angry at? At myself, for not being able to keep him from being born early. At the doctors and nurses for not being able to save him (although I do know they did everything they absolutely could). At Marcellus for leaving us. At God, still very angry at God some days. At anybody who doesn't mention him or acknowledge his life. At the world, just angry at the world. Angry that this is the hand I've been dealt. Angry that I must live the rest of my life without my first born son here.
Marcellus, I know being angry is not a good quality, but today I can't help it. I just want you here and I'm so angry that you're not! I'm sorry I get angry at you sometimes baby. I know you wanted to stay with us. I saw you fight and try your best to stay. I just don't know why you had to leave. I love you my sweet boy. I love you so much. That's why it's so hard to be without you. Oh I am really missing you today squirmy wormy! xoxox
I've been struggling with some anger the past month or so too. It's not a place I like to be at but part of my grief none the less. I will leave you with two thoughts:
ReplyDeleteGod is big enough to handle our anger.
My pastor once asked me, "Angie, why do you keep trying to find the silver lining in this situation?" My answer was that I needed to believe there was some purpose or ultimate good that would make Hazel's death and my pain worth it. The truth is, nothing makes it worth it. Her death isn't how things should have gone. And it's okay that I'm not okay with that.