Oh Facebook memories, we have a love-hate relationship.
I didn’t realize today was the 3-year anniversary of my son’s memorial… until you shoved it in my face.
Thanks for that.
Your pitch always seems so inviting, “You have memories.”
Like a friend pulling you in for a hug and a walk down memory lane.
It was quite the opposite.
Even now, a scroll through posts of old has the ability to warm my heart and bring a smile.
Today, my heart immediately dropped into the pit of my stomach.
I wanted to throw up.
There are certain days I know what to expect.
Christmas, which also marks his death.
Yet, I realized I never tracked this date as a milestone.
To be honest, I was in such a fog at that time I don’t even remember what day his memorial occurred.
I continued scrolling through the posts. Each one with a like or comment from me.
Yet, I was reading them with fresh eyes as if it were the first time.
I don’t recall a single one. There is something to be said for grief amnesia.
With each post, my wound was ripped open raw.
How easily we can slip back into a moment and have it feel so real… as if no time had passed.
Balloons filled my feed.
My heart felt the same hopeless feeling that flooded it for months following his death.
Most days, I welcome those memories.
Today, it felt different.
A new milestone was claimed. One I previously had no awareness of.
It’s funny how that continues to happen.
I understand why many choose to leave the world of social media following their loss.
Between old memories and constant images of happy families, reminders of what you are missing, there are so many minefields.
It’s impossible to prepare yourself and predict when one will be a trigger.
These are the things we must learn to navigate.
I just wish I had a little more control and awareness over when they will show up.
Photo Credit: Pexels | CC0 Creative Commons
Emily is a wife and mother to 3 children – 2 girls here 1 son in heaven. Late Christmas Eve (2015) life was sent on a new, unexpected trajectory. Her oldest child, Cameron (forever 7), unexpectedly got sick. Within 24-hours they were making the hardest decision of their lives to withdraw life support. As he died in her arms, she promised to find a way to live on in his honor.
She began sharing her grief journey on her blog (JustPlayingHouse.com), and the response from other bereaved parents was overwhelming. Feedback resonated that the support out there seemed to focus on infant/baby loss and miscarriage versus older children. She felt this was an opportunity and calling to help fill in that gap. Her passion is supporting other bereaved parents walking this path and educating others in an attempt to shatter the stigma surrounding grief and life after child loss. Writing has been the foundation of Emily’s healing, and she is currently working on her first book.
Facebook Page: fb.com/emilyjph