On Sad July Days:

July has started and I am going into a blue funk. My son’s death day is coming up you see. I’ll cry easier, eat too much and I’m moody. Mountain Man doesn’t like it but he understands.

Everyone else around me is getting ready for Independence Day. Flags and fireworks are all around. These things now remind me of death. They probably always will.

I’ll try to keep myself busy. I’ll do my exercising, and clean my house but I’ll be thinking about other things. I’ll be in the past. It is the one of the only places I can visit with my first born anymore. I will be sad for a while. It’s okay. I’ll get over it all over again until next year. But this week I go back to my memories to be with him there.

I want to be all good with this, but I never get there. I may never get there but I try. How does one feel better about having to live without ones child.

I don’t cry all the time. I hardly cry at all the rest of the year. I laugh and know how to have fun. I have plans and a life. But I can no longer include my child.

This week you won’t find me at the fireworks, or the concerts in town. I won’t be carrying a flag or be at the parade. I won’t be at the ball games and all the other thing that would be part of a very Victorian Fourth of July. I won’t be around too many people at all. I’ll come out later to play. Next week maybe. For now I’ll sit in a ball and cry, and wait for the time to pass. I miss my boy.