Happy Birthday, Dylan.

Well, we made it back from SC with our sanity.  Or what's left of it.

I was going to try to write on July 7 - but I just could not.  I couldn't reply to texts and messages from friends offering support.  It was just too hard.

For the first few seconds after waking up on July 7, I actually forgot.  This was the day I have been dreading for a while.  Then I looked at my phone and I remembered.  And then I felt horrible for forgetting at first.

You see, July 7th at 5:57am I held my silvery haired baby boy for the first time.  He was so warm, and LOUD.  But he was here.  And all I could remember, no matter how hard I tried, was his warmth - and that would bring the memories of the last time I touched him and how cold he was.

We were staying at a house on the beach for my sister's wedding held 2 days before.  It was just gorgeous.  We arrived on July 4th and it was beautiful.  My dad and his wife, my sister and her family were all there.  But between it being Dylan's favorite holiday - and we were all here - except HIM, I felt his absence more than ever.  My chest ached.  My eyes strained to keep the tears back - after all we were there to celebrate.  Celebrate the 4th.  Celebrate my sister's marriage on the 5th.  And celebrate Dylan on the 7th.  I just didn't feel like celebrating even with all of the beauty around me.


After waking, I went downstairs and tried to hold it in.  Do you know what it's like when you have to go to the bathroom REALLY REALLY badly?  And you are holding it in because you just can't get there, but you know it's coming?  That's how I felt.  I decided I needed a walk to be alone.  I had known I wanted to be on the beach alone with him that day, so I decided it was time.

The beach access was right across from the house.  The tears started before I hit the sand.  I was wearing sunglasses.  The tide was out, but coming back in.  I only walked about 200 yards before I had to stop because I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe.  I decided to sit where I stopped and wait for the tide to come to me.  That is the time I gave myself to be sad.  Then the water would wash my tears from the sand and I would have the courage to face the day without him.

While sitting there I cried.  Like the waves coming in and out, they would come and go.  I watched a small rock being battered by the waves - its journey up the beach wasn't easy.  It would climb a few feet only to be knocked back down by the next wave.  I won't belabor the analogous imagery.  I'm guessing you get what I'm trying to say.

After walking back, I was able to hold the tears in and enjoy time with the family at the pool, at the beach and on the golf cart. All things Dylan loved.  I hired a photographer and we went to Huntington Beach (highly recommend it for a day trip) and we took some family photos.  This is not something Dylan would have liked!  I couldn't watch pictures of the kids being taken, because I knew I would start to cry.  Then we went for a birthday dinner, a tradition in our family.  See, we have the majority of birthdays between May and August every year, so we always get together at some point to celebrate all the birthdays.  This happened to fall on Dylan's birthday this year.  I had done well, but being with everyone - without him was becoming harder and harder.  And the table they gave us was for 14 people, not 13, so there was an empty chair - highlighting his absence.

Then the newborn baby started crying.

And I couldn't hold it in anymore.

All the images of Dylan as a baby came flooding back - and then of course - the images of the last time I saw him.  

I tried to sit there and let the tears slide down my face quietly, but it didn't work for long and I had to leave.  I had another good cry there in the parking lot while the new dad tried to console his baby screaming.

When everyone came out after finishing their meals, we loaded up and headed back to the house.  By the time we got back (after an ice cream stop), I was able to pull myself together again and enjoy the evening.

I do not have the words to express the pain I felt that day.  I would not wish it on my worst enemy.  Even with the pain, I choose to celebrate his life.  It is not always easy.  And some days I don't do a very good job of it.  But I keep moving forward.

Happy Birthday, Dylan.  I love you and miss you so much.  I hope you had a wonderful celebration and you could truly enjoy your day without pain.