Tripp
July 23
I have been surrounded by dozens of lovely people since the start of July, but since the beginning of the month there has been a constant nag pulling at me. I just can't seem to shake its weighty pull. In fact, it has gotten to the point that I am reveling in the nag, even encouraging it to consume me.
Grief is a horrible beast that I will likely never truly understand.
It started on our first family vacation with Lawson. She completed our family and as we drove I realized that we were at a new beginning. Life is full of new beginnings and our van packed to the rim with our three little beings was just the most recent. I thought about Tripp at every turn. Where would he sit, where would he sleep, how would he travel, what would his excitement look like, would he like to swim, would he look more like Calder or Boone.
My "what ifs" have continued to haunt me since we returned from the coast. I know it is dumb. I know I need to stop. I am torturing myself. It's just I feel like missing him. I feel like being sad. It isn't good.
We went to Indigo last week to pick out some books. I felt this longing to find something to connect me to Tripp, so I went searching for the grief section. As I wandered my way through the store, a book caught my eye. Staring me me right in the face was Mitch Albom's "Have a Little Faith". I picked it up and read the back. The author has been asked to write a eulogy for his Rabbi. Death. Faith. I felt connected. I looked to the shelves to see if there was anything else that appealed to me and I quickly realized I was in the biography section. The copy of "Have a Little Faith" I was holding was alone, left there by someone who changed their mind - in the completely wrong section of the store. I started crying. I so badly want a sign that Tripp was with me. I long for this to be one. I feel silly even hoping that this incident was more than just a coincidence, but I will likely hold on to it as a sign he is with me. Tripp led me to that book.
I thought that having Lawson would help ease my longing for Tripp. I mean, I knew she wasn't going to be a cure for my grief. For that there is nothing. But I thought that there would be fewer times where I wondered about how my life would be if he were here. We were only ever having three kids and with Tripp here we would not have planned for a 4th. You can't trade lives and I knew with certainty before I got pregnant with Lawson that I would never look at a 4th child and wish I had the 2nd with me instead. I honestly thought a 4th would stop my "what if-ing". Tripp and Lawson would never have lived in the same world. I thought that I would stop wondering "What if Tripp were here?" because that would mean that Lawson wasn't and I could never imagine a world in which she doesn't exist. But that isn't what happened. Instead I just imagine a world that would have NEVER existed - one where we are raising 4 kids. I guess this isn't any different that what I did before. Whenever I imagined a life with Tripp in it, I was picturing something that would never happen. Now I just imagine a life where we have 4 kids under our roof. Again, a picture that would never exist.
I miss Tripp. I wish he was here. . .
I have been surrounded by dozens of lovely people since the start of July, but since the beginning of the month there has been a constant nag pulling at me. I just can't seem to shake its weighty pull. In fact, it has gotten to the point that I am reveling in the nag, even encouraging it to consume me.
Grief is a horrible beast that I will likely never truly understand.
It started on our first family vacation with Lawson. She completed our family and as we drove I realized that we were at a new beginning. Life is full of new beginnings and our van packed to the rim with our three little beings was just the most recent. I thought about Tripp at every turn. Where would he sit, where would he sleep, how would he travel, what would his excitement look like, would he like to swim, would he look more like Calder or Boone.
My "what ifs" have continued to haunt me since we returned from the coast. I know it is dumb. I know I need to stop. I am torturing myself. It's just I feel like missing him. I feel like being sad. It isn't good.
We went to Indigo last week to pick out some books. I felt this longing to find something to connect me to Tripp, so I went searching for the grief section. As I wandered my way through the store, a book caught my eye. Staring me me right in the face was Mitch Albom's "Have a Little Faith". I picked it up and read the back. The author has been asked to write a eulogy for his Rabbi. Death. Faith. I felt connected. I looked to the shelves to see if there was anything else that appealed to me and I quickly realized I was in the biography section. The copy of "Have a Little Faith" I was holding was alone, left there by someone who changed their mind - in the completely wrong section of the store. I started crying. I so badly want a sign that Tripp was with me. I long for this to be one. I feel silly even hoping that this incident was more than just a coincidence, but I will likely hold on to it as a sign he is with me. Tripp led me to that book.
I thought that having Lawson would help ease my longing for Tripp. I mean, I knew she wasn't going to be a cure for my grief. For that there is nothing. But I thought that there would be fewer times where I wondered about how my life would be if he were here. We were only ever having three kids and with Tripp here we would not have planned for a 4th. You can't trade lives and I knew with certainty before I got pregnant with Lawson that I would never look at a 4th child and wish I had the 2nd with me instead. I honestly thought a 4th would stop my "what if-ing". Tripp and Lawson would never have lived in the same world. I thought that I would stop wondering "What if Tripp were here?" because that would mean that Lawson wasn't and I could never imagine a world in which she doesn't exist. But that isn't what happened. Instead I just imagine a world that would have NEVER existed - one where we are raising 4 kids. I guess this isn't any different that what I did before. Whenever I imagined a life with Tripp in it, I was picturing something that would never happen. Now I just imagine a life where we have 4 kids under our roof. Again, a picture that would never exist.
I miss Tripp. I wish he was here. . .
Love you. Big hugs. I'm glad you shared this.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautifully written. You are an amazing person and mother and I know Tripp is smiling down on you and showering you with love and comfort to help ease your grief and pain. Thank you for sharing this post with all of us.
ReplyDeleteOf course you want the life where all four of your beauties are there, with you, in your arms.
ReplyDeleteI wish you could too. I hope you're okay with some of your sadness- it's so ...allowed? normal? understandably present?
Thinking of you lots and so thankful you shared. <3