I miss him

This is Isaac on the night we met him.

I miss my boy.  I miss the way he snuggled in close to sleep.  I miss the way he grinned with his whole mouth open.  I miss the way he was just starting to vocalize with us.  I miss the way he neatly book-ended my little family.  I miss the way he felt immediately like part of us.

Of course he doesn't look this way any more.  He's two now (I'll never forget his birthday -- 1/11/11). And April 1st of this year will mark two years since he was taken from us.  I still sometimes hope it was just a cruel joke. He's a big boy -- probably with no memory of all the memories he made here.  

I've never had to bury a child.  I have no real understanding of the finality of that horror.  But I have lost my son.  I've had to grieve, alone in the middle of the night, the ache of empty arms.  People say I should be happy for him (and in my mind I guess I am); he was reunited with his biological family.  Sometimes my heart struggles though, because we were his family when no one else wanted to be.  At the strangest times I find myself thinking about him, wondering what he's doing, what he's like.  "They" said it would get easier with time.  I suppose it did -- I don't have to wonder every second how I'm going to breathe again.  But the grief itself isn't less, isn't easier.  It's not constant; no, now it hits in waves, unexpectedly and without warning, ruining me for a time. There are people in my life who say I need to get over it, pull myself up by the boot straps and move on, it's over.  I'm not sure how to do that. I'm not even sure I want to do that. 

There's no real lesson here.  No clever way to end this post.  But if this is to really be any sort of memoir of me, then this needs to be here.  

Facebook rulebook

Before beginning this post, I think I have to admit that writing it officially makes me old...as in yesterday's technology old.  Not in the "I'm a relic" way -- I'm only 31 after all (is that right? I can't even remember).  But in the "I'm an iPhone 4 in an iPhone 5 world." I always wondered when this would happen and how it would feel...

On to facebook...

I think I need a facebook rulebook.  I recently commented on a "friend's" status and immediately thought, "I wonder if I just interrupted that conversation." And right then I began to have a feeling that I'm breaking a whole mess of unspoken rules about to whom and when I should comment.  I have a mess of friends -- old and new -- that fill my newsfeed daily.  Some are funny, others...not so much.  All entertaining for my somewhat voyeuristic self.  I've recently decided that if a name is on my friend list then I'll consider him/her my friend, as in I'll actually say something if I have something to say.  Let the commenting commence to start.  Precisely because of my new personal commenting rules, I've discovered that not everyone shares those rules.   In fact, I'm beginning to think I'm in the minority if not solitary position here. I don't want this to read as a plea for more comments.  I personally don't really care if I get comments...if you feel like saying something then say it.  Some days my introverted self just doesn't want  to comment -- too much personal interaction.  Rather this is me wondering, "am I doing this wrong?".  Is there a right way (and conversely wrong way) to comment?  Are there circles on facebook?  Am I supposed to only comment on those in the inner sanctum and just creep on those outside it?

And here's where I think it may be an age thing.  If you are labeled "Friend" then I think that deems us entered into some sort of relationship.  And if we are entered into some sort of relationship then I think that there shouldn't be any rules to how and when I communicate via the medium of the relationship (in this case facebook). And if there are rules, then shouldn't we terminate the relationship?  I just keep thinking that if any of my "real life" friends and I had rules on communication it would be difficult for us to maintain our friendships. And maybe that's the kicker.  Maybe I've grown tired of using facebook to check up on people and see how far they've come.  Maybe I've come to a place in my life when I realize how difficult it is for all of us and I genuinely want to celebrate and grieve and have community with folks...no matter what we were like decades ago.

I'll end with this...another apology for this mess of words I'll call writing.  Seriously out of practice...