Tomorrow's sorrow

Ugh - tomorrow.  Unveiling.  I understand why it is considered an important Jewish mourning ritual.....when it is for someone other than your child.  When my grandpa died, I do remember feeling some closure after his unveiling.  The day itself was hard though.  I cried my eyes out.  This neighbor of my grandparents pulled me aside and told me to calm myself down...that the day was supposed to be all about my grandmother and she didn't need to see my crying on her day.  I still think that stupid neighbor was wrong.  Should my grandmother have been crying all by herself?  Would it have been a comfort for her to know that she was the only one who was sad like that?  I tend to think she was probably reminded that she picked such a loving husband that her children and grandchildren were absolutely wild about and that we missed him with everything that we were.  Perhaps I am wrong.  I don't think so.

So, tomorrow, I will have my already open wound, opened further.  It seems like every couple of weeks, there is something that tears me apart anew with fresh intensity.  I am not ready for it.  I hate to think of Max up there on that hill.  I would rather think he is here, with me.  When I think of him up there, I know I dressed him all wrong.  He is wearing flannel PJs...Blue.  Giants.  Flannel PJs.  I worry about how hot he must get in the summer time...how wet he must get in the fall and winter rains...the flannel soaking up all of the water.  It reinforces my feelings of being an absolutely terrible mother.  Just terrible.

In the meantime, something really supportive from today - Ted's high school friend, Ryan Murphy, ran a 5k in Fairfield (where Ted grew up) in memory of two sweet boys: Ryan's nephew Gavin and our Maxie.  He sent out their support sites to raise some money too for these two important causes.  Ryan sends me some of the most heartfelt, lovely emails.  His whole family is very special to us.  Thank you Ryan for supporting our boy.  We love you very much!

8 comments

Lindsay said...

You and your family will be in my thoughts tomorrow. Sending lots of love and hugs.

Fiona said...

I will be thinking of you, Ted, Max and baby M tomorrow and hoping that the day passes gently for you.
Xx

Becca said...

I will be thinking of you tomorrow too. I know why you say you're a terrible mother, but I have to reply to that because y so obviously are not. You are a wonderful, amazing, beautiful mama who loves her boys fiercely and is willing to fight for them. You are working hard to protect them both and it's so clear that you were a sweet, loving mama from the start. I think Maxie is proud to have you as his mother. Baby M will be too.

Susan said...

I'm not Jewish - and know little about it - but it strikes me that the year is just not long enough - maybe you need longer for a child. I can't face erecting a gravestone. I can't think what to write. I hope you find tomorrow supportive. I like the idea of family coming together to remember and honour. Remembering precious Maxie - it is so terribly unfair x

jkbrumbaugh@gmail.com said...

We will be thinking of you tomorrow. Abby, I sent two emails to you I hope you got them. The second is way more clear. We don't have something like the unveiling but it sounds that in a way its a day to remember and not feel so alone. Kira

Jenny Romanowski said...

Hearts and prayers with you and your family tomorrow and always. I'd love to be able to snuff out that evil little voice in your head that makes you feel like a terrible mother! Your one of the most heartfelt loving mothers I know. It's makes everything that much more difficult but also makes your love that much more fierce!

Britt said...

Dear Abby, Ted, Maxie and Baby M,
We are thinking about you always, and especially this weekend. Wish we were beside you to give you a hug.
Love, Britt & Justin

Allisonkovac said...

You are too hard on yourself. Who ever would imagine/plan/predict what outfit one would place on your deceased child? No one. Because it doesn't make sense in the order of things. You are a fabulous mother who had a terrible, unfair, and devastating loss. You are far from terrible.