August Sucks

Have I mentioned how much I HATE the month of August? Well, I do. Things might have been different, you know, if I was planning a birthday party rather than planning on the places where we'll sprinkle some of our son's ashes this month. If all I had to worry about was what gift to buy him or if we even had enough money to throw him a party, and not, you know, how I'm going to hold it together all month. The fact that I start school the week of his birthday (and will actually be at school on his birthday) is going to be TOUGH. At least it's just a review lab, and it's not like I have any lectures or patient care or anything. I can lay low. And, by the grace of God, I have his eternity day off. So does Peter. So, there's that.

But, really.

August sucks.

I mean, it's not as if my grief is reserved for this month or anything. I think about Ezra every day. I cry probably once a week or more. It's not easy grieving the loss of a child and it will be a life-long process.  But, August is AUGUST. It's the month he was born. It's the month he died. It's the month that changed my life, my family's life, forever. I think about the "what ifs" all through the year, but it's accentuated in August. This month is a double whammy and I dread it every single year.

Perhaps, one day, I will look forward to celebrating my son, without my son. But, for now, it's still a painful month with painful memories that I'm know I never want to forget. I celebrate him still, because, well, how could I not? But, it would be awesome if I could celebrate with him. I know someday I will, but, for now, please allow me to have my disgruntled resentment of this terrible month. It'll be over in 31 days. Until next year, that is...