Let Me Tell You Who I Am

So powerfully written...

"I have three kids, not two. My first son died. There, I said it. I know you may not want to hear it. Neither do I, yet I have to say it over and over and over again to slowly wrap my mind around the incomprehensible truth. My son is dead.

It might make you uncomfortable for a moment, yet I am uncomfortable for a lifetime. Either I pretend he never existed, for your comfort, or, to my own discomfort, this new life of mine comes with dreaded and sometimes hostile reactions; blank stares, awkward silences, big eyes bugging out of shocked faces; or worse, looks of despair, pity, shame, judgment; even, turning of backs, that walk away, leaving me in mid-sentence of my pain. Or, worst of all, altogether ceasing to be my friend, upon discovering that, I am a bereaved mother.

Let me tell you how it feels to have my son deleted, his existence denied because it makes people uncomfortable to hear he lived and he died.

I am a bereaved mother, a grieving quasi-supermom; I straddle time and space. You might feel pulled in two directions, but let me tell you how it feels to be pulled between heaven and earth, as a mother to an angel and a mother to two living, breathing, laughing little boys. A mother to the living and the dead."

- Angela Miller

To read the entire article, over at Still Standing Magazine, click here.