Memorial Day

Tomorrow is Memorial Day.  Today we took pictures with our entire extended family, which I was dreading, since one special member of the family would be missing from all of the pictures.  We also took the pictures at the same spot our family did just 4 months before Lincoln passed away.  It was hard going back to that place, and hard taking pictures of our family when it just didn't seem right with Lincoln missing from all the pictures.  I hate it.

And, as if that wasn't hard enough, for some reason we decided to visit Lincoln's grave right after, since we were close by.  We went on this same day last year, but last year was the first time we visited since the day of his funeral.  And although an entire year has gone by, one year later my feelings were the same.  This sucks and I hurt so badly to hold my sweet Lincoln again.

 It's quite a sight as you enter the cemetery on Memorial Day weekend, with a million flags up everywhere.  It's beautiful.  

A few weeks ago a friend said that her 6 year old daughter really wanted to attend a funeral of a close friend who had passed away, and although she didn't really want to take her daughter, she realized how important it is to teach our children about death.  Yup- we've got that lesson covered!  As Shane and I sat by Lincoln's grave, talking about life, we watched as Jezelle went wondering through the cemetery, reading the messages and names on each headstone.  I told Shane how strange it is that she will grow up with a familiarity of this cemetery.  It will just be part of her life and our family routine.   She was content walking around when suddenly she looked at me and started to sob.  Although we had come here not too long ago, Jezelle was very emotional this time, which then results in Shane and I feeling very emotional.  She sobbed as I carried her all the way to the car.  

There has always been talk of how a mother learns to distinguish between her baby's different cries; depending on if they are tired, hungry, etc.  I feel that way about Jezelle.  She has a heart-wrentching cry that is so different from any of her other cries, when she is truly mourning the loss of her little brother.  You can hear the hurt in her voice.  It's absolutely heart-breaking.

A friend of mine asked just last week if I ever have moments of feeling "ok" about Lincoln's death.  No.  Never ever.  I have received confirmation and felt at peace that it was his time to go, and that everything in life happens for a reason, and I know that I will see him again someday, but that still doesn't make it ok.  It will never be ok, and unfortunately until you've lost a child, you just cannot understand that feeling.  There is nothing like it.