Monday, March 4, 2013

Two Years Already

Saturday came and went. We went to church and had the service dedicated in Colin’s name (we did this last year as well). We juggled kids and chores and it wound up being a fairly typical Saturday. With Audrey requiring so much attention, and Ava always wanting to play, or color, or do whatever with Mommy and/or Daddy, there is not much time to really do anything but take care of the girls and keep the house in relative order. This is not to say that the day was not filled with thoughts of Colin and some sadness because of it being the anniversary of his death…that is far from the truth, but it was not the intense pain of the first anniversary. Maybe time has softened the blow a bit, or maybe it is just the fact that with a six month old in the house, the focus had shifted. ­I am not going to over analyze it any longer. It just is what time and normal life has brought about after these two years.

Colin is as loved and as missed as he ever was. That will never change. What has changed is the focus of our family’s energy. Audrey and Ava need their parents to be in the here and now, not pining away for a second chance to change what cannot be changed. So, instead of mourning and openly grieving, we have moved on to a new stage of our lives that is about refocusing on family and making sure the girls are in a loving and present home. Colin will always be a part of this family, and always be remembered and loved, but the sad reality is that he is dead, and dead is not something we can change. We can only cherish the time we had with him and keep him very much alive in our hearts and minds.


  1. I believe that both time and the addition of a new family member also eased the pain for us. The hurt these days is a lot, lot less and for that reason I don't blog as much about SIDS and my personal loss as I used to. I found that other things were taking precedent and that I just didn't feel as *sad* as I used to. That, within itself, made me feel guilty. Our son (who will be 6 this week) does not even remember Toby. He was 3 when he died. I think he might have impressions of him, but probably thinks of him more like a visiting cousin who was here for a little while or something. He can say his name if we point at pictures, but I think that's just because he's heard us do it and he's mimicking us. We don't visit the cemetery often and, when we go, it's always met with complaints because the drive is "soo long" and "there's nothing to do there." (Both true for a kid.)

    It also no longer bothers me that other people seem to have forgotten or "moved on." He was my child, not theirs. What used to enrage me I can now just shrug off. Those few (and I'm talking 2 or maybe 3) who remember his birthday or the anniversary of his death and make a point of mentioning it to us are held in high regard. Those who don't; well, that's okay. To be honest, I don't remember their kids' birthdays, either.

    I still get mad, I still get enraged over some things, and there are many things that I haven't let go of, too. Some things I might never let go of. But he's in our hearts and our memories and even if the world moves on that will never change.

    I am so glad you are back on the blog. I think your blog is needed, especially for the male population out there. I like reading you, too, so I am also a little selfish in that regard.

  2. It is strange - as I am coming up on Alexander's second anniversary on April 1st, I am finding myself feeling MORE anxious than last year! Maybe because I am over the shock and now I am moving into the true grief? I don't know. but I know there are no right answers. One day at at time is all we can do.
    A friend wrote this blog I think you might like it


  3. Nancy, I went through that period as well. I think that around the 6 month point for me I was worse off than I had been at the one month, two month, three month and so on mark. I think that eventually the shock wears off and a new kind of grief sets in and that grief is even worse in many ways.

  4. Thank you for sharing Colin's story. It's nice to hear another grieving dad who understands what I've learned over the past 15 months from the death of my son. You're right that time heals wounds but the scar remains forever. It's good to hear that you are able to refocus and love your family and meet their needs.

    My son Samuel died a few short hours after he was born due to a fatal condition. He was born about 1 month premature but most of the doctors didn't think he would make it that long. My wife and I chose not to end his life when we learned of his diagnosis, but to give him the best life possible even though it was short. Our story of his life did not begin at birth as some children's stories seem to, but it started at his diagnosis, and we began to form a close relationship with him. Ultimately he has changed us both in ways we never imagined. And we can't wait to see him in heaven. It's just really hard to wait that long.

  5. I would also like to add that my wife and I have also experienced far too many people tell us, especially my wife, that it's time to "move on". We hate that. Some people just don't get it and never will.