Tired

The word that has stayed in my mind lately is 

**TIRED**

My entire body is tired.

Tired of grieving,

drained from the constant aching, heavy, icy heart,

tired of feeling forlorn and having a pity party for my situation.

My brain is spent from trying to understand death and where my son went,

I am drained from just sitting on the couch staring off because I'm in a state of dis-belief one of my children has died,

exhausted from feeling depressed and hopeless.

I am run down from missing Ollie every-living-moment and longing for his gentle touch and smell,

tired of Poppy crying and wishing Ollie was here to calm her down and to 

teach her his gentle ways.

So spent, exhausted, burned out, haggard.

So fed-up feeling like Poppy, Chris and I, (of course all of our family too) has been cheated out of this earthly experience with such a wonderful tender boy.

I am tired of waking up to just one child,

tired of only having memories-but oh so precious ones, of my son who once died at my home,

 my body feels so worn out and feels as if I have ran a daily marathon,

so so tired.

My mind wanders daily thinking of what my son is doing?

What are his daily thoughts?

What is he looking at, touching and smelling?

Are the colors beautiful and the music peaceful?

I wish I could see him. 

Many people suggest to me Ollie is with me and near me, 

I feel him, 

but its so hard when

your precious child who you are the caretaker of, is just one day found lifeless and no longer present physically. 

I just can't see him. Oh how I wish I could.

Just to hold him, touch him, kiss him and tell him I love him.

One day I will see him. 

One day my aching heart will be healed. 

My body will rest forever.

My mind will understand, I will know why this happened.

I will see with my entire body, mind and spirit.

I will know.

Until then, I am pushing forward, very very slowly and awkwardly, but I am moving.

***Kiss your sweet little blonde hair, blue eyed boys for me***