Bosty,
I guess you could say I've been in deep thought about just about everything in my life lately. Probably because in a short amount of time your baby brother will be arriving and that brings a lot of change into our lives, and for me it means facing a lot of things that scare me.
In all of this thinking I've been doing there are two things I can't get off my mind; peace and acceptance. These words are used a lot in the after math of death and the process of grieving and "moving forward".
At first I would stare at people in shock that they could even suggest I would ever find peace or acceptance. Now, 20 months later I have a better understanding of why people say these things and where they are coming from, however, acceptance is the one that I to this day despise and probably always will.
I find it frustratingly inappropriate to use in terms of the death of a child.
In my life I have accepted help, apologies, gifts, differences in opinions, things of that sort, but I do not accept your death.
I understand that you are gone. I understand that life does go on. I understand that it's okay to find happiness, but I do not "accept" any part of the who, what, when, where, why, and how of your passing.
To me reaching a state of acceptance would be like me saying it is okay that you are gone, and that's certainly something I will never be okay with. Even though I no longer live in denial, I no longer cling to misery, and I no longer expect or even beg to wake up from the nightmare that your death was and still is, I do not accept it.
I wish people would try to look at it as a form of understanding. I understand I have to miss you until the day that I die. I understand that means years of birthdays where cake and presents aren't involved, years of holidays that I will spend trying to focus on what is in front of me instead of what's missing, and many years of failing in my attempts to do so. I understand that this Christmas instead of picking out presents for you, I am awaiting the arrival of your headstone. I understand that I wouldn't even know what to buy you because you left before I got the chance to know what you would like. I understand that I am strong enough to survive, but I am not strong enough to accept. How could I?
Im not as reluctant or put off by "the finding peace" part because I can now say I have found bits of peace in my life, but it would be a lie to say that I'm actually at peace with your death. Maybe if someone can sit me down when I finally join you and say that there was a profound reason that you were taken from me in that moment then my heart could find true peace...but not a moment sooner. You will never see me wave a white flag when it comes to your passing.
I've been waiting for the right time to pursue justice when it comes to the who, what, when, where, why, and how of why you are gone. There have been times I was convinced I was ready, only to find myself utterly overwhelmed and once again drowning in your death after one conversation with lawyers. It's something that I've wanted to do since the moment I found out the circumstances of that day were terribly different than I had been told, but it's also something I have to make sure I am strong enough to do. I have to make sure I have enough joy to balance how painful recalling everything is, and I think I'm almost there.
I hope I'm making you proud, I am really trying. Lord knows I'll always be proud of you. I love you, Bosty.
