3 years

At this time three years ago I was reeling with the new reality that my oldest son, my sweet beautiful prince, was dead.  His time of death was pronounced at 0523 this morning three years ago.  There is so much about that time I cannot remember.  My friend, Sara, who is also a bereaved mama saw all of the spirit coincidences that were happening all around me all the time and she told me I should write it all down because I wouldn’t remember if I didn’t.  There was no space for writing.  At that time the only things I could tolerate were the work it took to keep my house running and coloring.

Occasionally I’d have the extra capacity to read a little bit and after I got through a couple of short grief-centered, other-side-centered books I turned to fiction, which is so rare for me.  I have a preference for non-fiction, always with my nose in some kind of self-help book, especially since I got clean in 2012.  This was different.  So different.  My brain could not tolerate real.  I had just gotten the ultimate and unwanted dose of real.  I even thought I couldn’t be a registered nurse anymore for awhile.  I channeled that energy into returning to school, where I am now almost finished with my BSN.  The series I managed to get myself lost in right after Oscar died is called Abarat.  I’ve been thinking eventually I will revisit those books.  Perhaps when I finally finish school…

I remember there was always some sort of amazing and seemingly not possible coincidence happening right after Oscar died.  I think he was manipulating things from the other side to help us adjust to his death.  I still feel him all the time with me, guiding me, an unseen friend.  Everything from a penny from heaven with my birth year on it that seemed to appear out of nowhere when I was taking Vivian roller skating on Sunday to my nursing career.

Today I have found a niche in nursing far far away from the operating room, which is where I spent the better part of ten years.  I loved surgery, but when Oscar died and I wasn’t sure I could even continue being a nurse I knew I needed to change.  Recently I began working in a primary care physician office.  It feels like the absolute right fit.  The physician I work for is like minded and extremely supportive of my work in suicide awareness, prevention and loss support.  Today I am diligently working to make a difference for patients with mental illness through education and support, as only a nurse can.  It is a very special niche and one that I am hoping to expand.  The class I am taking this semester is evidence based practice for nurses, and of course, true to form, I am researching how nurses can make a difference at the place where primary care and mental health meet.  This is such an important focus.  For so many reasons.

So today, three years after my oldest son Oscar’s death I have hope.  My mantra is, “I am healing and I bring love and the energy of love to every shadow.”  All for Oscar.  I miss you, I love you, there will never be enough of you, my sweet sassy first born son.

 

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