Friday, August 23, 2013

Two Years

To my son Tommy,

It now has been two years since your stillborn brother was delivered into this world.  His heart had stopped beating in the womb after just eighteen or nineteen weeks with us.  It hasn't got any easier to talk about or to deal with.  They told me time heals all wounds but I know I am still angry.  My anger stems from not knowing how to cope with a bunch of other feelings.  It is the culmination of frustration, sadness, grief, despair, fear, and a whole flood of emotions.  And there seems to be plenty to go around.  I am angry at nature, at the medical profession, at God, at people, at myself, and at the entire thing.

No questions have been answered.  I don't know why, on any level be it physical or metaphysical, this happened.  No doctor has told me why, nor have they told me the likelihood of it happening again.  No answers have come from Above that help me to understand the plan here or why your mother and you and I were chosen to bear this cross. And I am sorry but it makes me feel anger.

It is okay to be angry with God.  He is a big boy and can take it.  Just because you are angry with someone doesn't preclude love.  One of the first things I did this morning was to go to church and pray.  I sat in the back so my tears wouldn't disrupt Mass for anyone, but I did go.  I told God straight out that I am angry with him and I asked Him to help me love Him and then I thanked Him for the gift of His only Son.  If anyone knows about losing a son, He certainly does.  I prayed that He bestows His grace on us to better understand.  It is okay to be angry with God, but it takes faith to refuse to abandon Him even tough you are angry with Him.  But I imagine he never loses love for me no matter how I could anger Him throughout my life.

I am angry with people.  I am angry with people who don't respect life enough in any stage or form.  I think that is why the recent shootings got to me so much.  I just want to scream at these people that seem dead set on shooting other people.  I want to scream, "Life is too precious!", a lesson I learned holding Baby Sal in my hands.  As long as I live, every soul I see taken from this world will remind me of the soul that never got to take a breath in this world, and I am just not sure I will ever understand.

I am also angry at myself for both moving on too much and at the same time not moving on enough.  Every time I remember Baby Sal throughout the year I get angry that I haven't remembered him more often and yet get upset and feel guilty that I got myself all upset.  I feel angry with people who say it is time to move on because on some level I agree with them and on another I know many aren't speaking from experience.  I feel guilty that I was unable to save my son in the womb nor that I even knew he was in danger.  I feel anger that I did not do enough even though there was nothing I could do.  Guilt is complicated.  Anger is complicated.  Love is complicated.  

For all this anger, for all this emotion and for any rage I might feel, nothing from the past changes.  Baby Sal has passed on like an unseen shooting star and there is no emotion that will change that.  Anger can only effect your present and your future, most often in a negative way.  Anger can eat at you like a cancer, if you let it.  It can make you lose your faith, if you let it.  It can harden your heart and your soul and make you lose love, if you let it.  When you deal with your anger remember it is your choice as to how it effects you.  Don't let it destroy you.

I still consider Sal a precious gift.  We were blessed to have him for the short time we did, and we are blessed for what he has taught us about anger, and love, and faith, and life.  I pray for the anger to subside and a certain peace to take its place.  I visualize my grandparents Deezy and Charlie enjoying their 2 year old great grandchild in heaven.  And I thank God that I have a wonderful wife and another wonderful son to lean on as we help each other through any grief.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

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