Why Do You Keep Talking About It?

Some people probably wonder why I still go on about it on my Facebook, sharing the little grief quotes or saying this or that about my sadness. I do not live life in a sad fashion. I cry probably more than most women, but I am an upbeat woman in life. But every single day I think of my son just as I did when he was living. Why not get over it already? I'll tell you.

I carried my son inside me for 9 months.
I counted every week.
I was so ready for him when he finally arrived.
I went through the pain only a mother can feel after being a home for another living being.
I nursed my baby.
I rocked my baby.
I held him for countless hours over the years just adoring his sweet face and listening to his sweet baby sounds change to sweet boy sounds.
I sang to him. I still do.
I diapered him, powdered him, slathered on the Desitin.
I played patty cake.
I made him meals.
I fed him until he could feed himself.
I photographed him.
I wrote all of his info in his baby book.
I bathed him.
I doctored him.
I took him for walks around our neighborhoods.
I took him to the library and read to him daily.
I took him to see animals.
I laughed with him over his first girlfriend, Kayla Farmer, in the first grade. I asked, "How do you know she's your girlfriend?" His answer- "Because she told me."
I taught him to read the letters of the alphabet and know what sounds they make.
I invented a song about his name so he would learn to spell it easier.
I held his hand when we went places, even after he was really too old for that. I remember the last time I held his hand.
I shared music with him.
I got angry with him.
I ate take out with him.
I watched movies with him.
I showed him how to take care of himself in the kitchen.
I fussed at him when his grades weren't where they should be.
Before that I raved over having a straight A student.
I fought with him.
I shared my love of spicy food with him.
I took him on his first real date.
I texted anyone who would be interested in knowing that he was having his first date.
I petted his head when he didn't feel good.
I was there with him when he buried his son, Noah.
I stalked his facebook page.
I have regrets.
I have done all the things that mothers do with their child- plus a little more.
I have stared down at his lifeless face. I have gone to his grave and talked, hoping he can still somehow hear me.
I have looked at his daughter, knowing he never got to look at her.
I have gasped for air when I have sobbed myself breathless.
My child was a part of my life in one way or another for 18 years, 9 months and 16 days. Three years later he still is a part of my life, just in a different way. How would that ever change? I feel things that only another mother would get close to possibly understanding. I wake up every day knowing he still isn't here. Some days I get up and get moving with less trouble than other days. There are still days, though, that I wake up and wish I didn't. There are days when I wake up, and just lay there crying. There are days when out of the blue I'm crying and asking Terry why he can't make this different. He can fix everything except this one thing.
It kills me every day to see parents who take their children for granted. I just want to shake them and make them see what they have, and how you never know if you will have that tomorrow. That is life now... hoping for the best, but being very VERY aware that the worst can and does happen.
So the next time you wonder why I am still on about it all, just think about your children. Think of all the mundane nonsense you deal with daily with your children. Think of the silly thing he/she said the other day. Think of the argument you had before school and felt horrible all day about. Think of them calling out, "Hey, Mom, what's for dinner tonight?" - I still hear 'Mom', but I don't hear Aaron call me Mom- then try to imagine it missing. You can't, I promise.
I would give anything to have the mundane nonsense back.
3 years alive today past my firstborn's death. It is wrong. But now you know why I will always make mention of it. He is just another part of who I am and always will be.