NO DRESS REHEARSAL. THIS IS OUR LIFE.

๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ‘ฃIt doesnโ€™t take a Master in Counselling Psychology to know I have PTSD (despite having one, Master). It takes recurring horrible thoughts, traumatic events that still, tears me apart. Two years ago today, I watched my son have a deadly seizure. This was not a scene; this was not a play. As Gord Downie sings passionately โ€˜No dress rehearsal, this is our life.โ€™ I woke up tired that day and went to teach an early Prenatal Class. I came back home to a cranky family. Tommy was sick again and should we go waste a Saturday afternoon at emerg? We had seen him so much worse, no fever, just lethargic and he had such a great day at daycare yesterday. 


That afternoon Tommy and I laid in bed, cuddled, warm in our bedroom safe haven. The sheets smelled of the night before, bile and sweet milk. I kept checking for a fever- something more that would unease me but nothing. 


Do you understand? I was with him hours before his death and I didnโ€™t save him. I was there. It drives me crazy to know that. I couldnโ€™t see that my own child was dying? He was pulling his hair out of his head and I still didnโ€™t get it? If only he could have told me he had a headache. 


I didnโ€™t go to war. I didnโ€™t see blood. But that afternoon changed my life, forever. Not the seizure itself, not the neurosurgeon telling me he was brain dead the next day, but the moments leading up to that- this is what keeps replaying in my head. 


We all have teachers, guides, people that teach us how to live. My teacher no longer has a body. My teacher lets butterflies, sun-rays and sunflowers roll-in to soften my sadness. If I whisper: โ€˜I miss youโ€™. He always replies โ€˜Fonce, maman! โ€™. โ€œGiverโ€™r, mom!โ€ He always says that, can you fucken believe it?

The cost of grieving, being this close to death doesnโ€™t come without strains, recurring traumatic thoughts, heartbreaks, the works. But the rewards doesnโ€™t come without miracles, grace and ease either. If only you'd GIVEโ€™R!!! walk-on, stand proud, sing loud (yeah, #thanksgord!)


The blessings in coming so close to death is getting to know how precious and so very fragile life really is. 


#tommytinkerforever #captureyourgrief#whathealsyou #mayweallheal

Estelle ThomsonComment