What is WRONG with me?

I had tears in my eyes the whole way home from the bus stop. The oldest is sad that school is over for the year. Aren't most kids happy? He really does love school. I hope that part never changes for him. I'm sad because he's growing up. Well, happy, proud of course, but sad because my God time is flying. Before I know it the littlest will be in pre school and I'm not wishing it away but I wish just once, we could make time stop. Just freeze it. But if I couldn't do that when Lucas was alive, I suppose I can't do it now. (Big long dramatic sigh)

I threw myself into painting the cubby over the fireplace. It's done. Just like that. I then faux painted the pillars at the front door (they are short and more like a plant stand but look exactly like old Greek pillars). I keep staring at the very large pile of laundry on the dining room table though. That can stay there forever as far as I'm concerned. Seriously.

I am sad today. I know why. Couple of reasons. First grade is done. Second grade here we come. Another year gone by. I tried to cherish it the best I could. I hope I did it right. But more than that, tomorrow the littlest will be exactly as old as Lucas when he died. In fact, at 11:11 am he will have officially lived longer than Lucas. That is a strange marker. Why do I keep track of this kind of stuff? It's hard not to relive those moments. They still are as fresh as when they happened. Certain moments are yes, very real still. Should I be happy that the littlest lived longer than Lucas? Well, of course. Stupid question. Should I be sad? No. But why then am I? Someone commit me. I'm not smiling right now. I'm not joking.

Yesterday one of the Oldests old teacher approached me about some books I had loaned her because her son was having a hard time accepting the death of his Grandma. During the conversation, in which I tried to impart as much wisdom as I could about how children deal with death, she said to me, "I never told you this but Lucas touched me so much. I don't think you know how many people were touched by him, people you don't even know" Something about my strength I don't know what she said at that point because my mind was racing; try not to cry, what do I say, try not to cry, change the subject....but I thanked her. What was I thinking? Why would I thank her? So innappropriate, so inadequate....thank you for what? I guess I wanted her to know I appreciated the thought (very much) but didn't know how to properly convey it.

I don't want my life to always be about Lucas but it is. I don't want to always be on the verge of tears when happy things are happening. But I am. I didn't want him to die. But he did. I guess in this life we don't really ever get what we want do we? We think we want more money. We get it and no, that really wasn't what we wanted. We think we want the best of this and that, and no, that didn't make us happy either. Its a constant struggle. I think in this life we have to really know ourselves and know our own self worth and find value in that. Find the value in believing in a higher being; God. I guess no matter how sad I am, it could always be worse.

Tomorrow will be hard. I know it's strange and I acknowledge that. We feel what we feel. Can't change it. Not for all the money in the world. Can't change how we feel a bit. I know one thing. How I feel matters. At least to me.

Jenn