Angela “I wrote an article and posted it today… it felt good to start blogging again”
Me  “I read it, I liked it… the last line made me tear up. I’m sorry all of the writing has fallen to you the last few months. I just don’t have the motivation to talk to people about healthy living right now… it’s just not where I am”
Angela  “It’s our blog, you can write about whatever you want to write about. Your good days, your bad days… use it as therapy”
Me  Deep breath… “ok, maybe”
The challenge is how do you put into writing something that no words will ever adequately express? How much I loved my son, how much I miss him, and how much I ache each day that he is not here with me. Selfishly I want him here with me, now… forever.
I seem to be stuck in an ongoing cycle of grief. Some mornings it feels like I hit all 5 stages of grief before I’ve had my morning cup of coffee. Other times, a day will pass where I don’t cry and I think “ok, I’ve finally made it through, now I can focus on the happy times“. Only to wake up the next morning and succumb to an endless stream of tears, catching up on the ones I missed the day before.
I try to remember that there is no set pace as I continue my journey along without him. That I won’t gain anything by forcing myself to move faster than my spirit is willing to go.
But it’s difficult being where I am… having people worry about you and wanting you to be ok.  This constant feeling of pressure to reassure them that you’re fine while knowing in your heart you’re not. You know that you will never be the person you were before. How could you be? There is a piece that will forever be missing. So you endure…you try to move forward… you find strength in those that have traveled this path before you… you survive.
I miss you Owen.
Day 146