I make people uncomfortable.

I make people uncomfortable.  I.  Make.  People.  Uncomfortable.  My life or my situation makes people uncomfortable.  I am the mother of a lost child.  I am the mother of a child who died too young.  If it can happen to me, it can happen to other people.

People are scared to talk to me about my child who died.  They are afraid they will make me cry.  They are afraid they will cry.  Maybe my loss reminds them of a loss they have had in their lives, something hidden and buried and tries to break free when reminded of my loss.

Maybe they don’t know what to say, afraid of saying the wrong thing, so they say nothing.  They ignore posts on social media, they pretend nothing has changed.

This past weekend was Luke’s 9^th birthday and Mother’s Day.  It was a rough weekend.  A friend, “C” actually shared a Facebook Post about talking to grieving moms, she said it helped her to see that saying anything is actually comforting and helpful. You can read the article here. This is how to stop the world 

I have an amazing group of online friends I met years ago in a group called Spals.  They have called, send cards and flowers and checked in regularly to make sure the kids and I are OK.  They remember every holiday and anniversary.  They too are mothers of kids in heaven.  After we graduated from Spals, most of us not planning on having any more Spals babies, we kept in touch by a new e-mail group and now by Facebook and texting.  There have even been a few “Surprise” babies.  It is hard to believe I have known some of these women for 15 years!  They even forgive (I hope) my lack of communication when I just can’t talk about things and my rambling, long confusing posts when there is no one else to talk to.

I spent part of the weekend being sad and frustrated more people in my off-line life didn’t recognize Lukie’s b-day.  It seemed besides “C”, everyone who posted or said or did something to remember Luke has lost a child in one manner or the other.

Today it occurred to me that maybe the people whom I was disappointed in were hurting too.  Maybe my loss, maybe Luke’s dying reminded them of something they have buried so deep they don’t even realize it is still hurting.  They deal with my hurt by ignoring it, brushing it under the rug, going on with life as usual because to acknowledge my pain would be the catalyst that brought their own pain rushing back to the surface.

To everyone who acknowledged Luke’s birthday Friday, Thank You!  To the people who find it too hard to think about….. I am truly sorry for your pain.  I pray you find the strength to deal with whatever is hurting you.