My TWO Angels, We Miss You

On July 18 I lost my baby boy. And on November 18 I lost my dad. Losing your dad and your baby in four short months is extremely hard. But having to explain to your three year old that he lost his baby brother AND his Papa in just four months is unimaginably painful. I am pretty sure, somehow, I have convinced myself that I am dreaming. I am STILL waiting for that moment when my dad walks down the stairs with my sweet 21 month old boy and I WAKE UP.  I wake the @#&*% UP and stop living in a nightmare. 

Unfortunately, I am also fully aware that I wont wake up from this nightmare. This is my unfortunate reality. I am living, breathing, alive and trying to survive a nightmare. Something I absolutely hate to admit. Your body has this incredible way of putting yourself in "shock fog" after something so traumatic. I often find myself just going through the motions. Wake up, get dressed, eat, sleep, repeat. If only it could be that simple. Its not. Just when you think you might be able to start picking up the pieces, a tornado comes barreling in. This really really sucks. I can't sugar coat it, I can't tell you its anything else. It is unfair and it is unreal. My heart hurts so bad, it stings, and it's just so broken. The worst part about death and heartbreak, its irreversible.

Grieving is complicated. And it gets really complicated when you are blasted with two very close losses together. I often find myself grieving not only for myself but for my three year old, Easton. I am sad and angry for what he does or does not understand. I hate that my three year old wants to visit heaven. I get very sad when he asks where the stairs to heaven are. I do not like that he fears getting sick because sick people die and go to heaven. I do not like that he is so in tune to a funeral on TV and asking about the "special box" that is on display. And I am devastated for him that in four short months, he has had to say goodbye to two incredibly special people in his life.

I am not sure how much he really grasps at a three year old level. I have been truthful and real with him. I allowed him to say goodbye to his baby brother and his Papa, we talk about them often, and I answer the many, many questions that will pop up at random times of the day. I already miss the many days or yard work they had left to do, the numerous sky high Lego towers they needed to build together, the many little brotherly fights I am yearning to break up, and the messes they should be making together. I miss my dad, but what I miss more is Easton's Papa. I miss my baby boy, but I really miss Easton's little playmate. A little bit of me thinks that Brecken had a bigger part of my dads heart, that maybe they needed each other a little more than we could ever know. I hope they are mowing the heavenly lawns together. Building super tall Lego towers together. My dad snuggling his sweet grandson as he rocks in his rocking chair, giving those chubby cheeks and toesie bosies lots of kisses for me.

We may have two beautiful angels, but we miss these two here on earth an indescribable amount.
Love you Brecken boy. Love you Daddy.