Talking About The Bug

Ever since my sweet baby went to be with God people always hesitate talking about him to me. I can understand them not wanting to hurt me and not knowing how to handle the situation. It can be quite awkward and people don't know weather or not I am comfortable talking about him yet. Obviously as you can tell I am (if i wasn't, I wouldn't blog about him) but not everyone knows this. It is hard to talk about him because I miss him so much, but not talking about him doesn't make me miss him any less. It doesn't take away the pain. I find comfort in remembering all the fun times I had with my bug, the moments that I treasure dear. Even though he is gone he is still my son, and what mother doesn't want to talk about her child 24/7. I still love him with all my heart, and I would rather talk about the good memories, the smiles he brought to our faces, the laughter we shared, the cute little things, the not-so-cute little things (like when he peed all over me one morning) than talk about the day he passed or the memories I'm making without him. It helps me to talk about him because it shows that you remember him, you hold him dear, it shows that you care, that he will not be forgotten. So many people don't know how to handle this or how to handle me, I say he is my son, I love him, I cherish him, I cant not talk about my baby. I cant not tell you that my sweet little boy had the cutest little bug eyes, i cant not tell you that my son loved to play patty-cake, I cant not tell you that he loved when you stuck your tongue out at him, it was his favorite game. I will tell you everything about him if you give me the time to, stranger or not. I will tell you that he always fell rite asleep in the car, and he spit-up a lot because he had reflux, and that liked when i would read to him. That's my job as a mother to brag about my son. I will also tell you that he is a special angel and he was too perfect for us, that while we only held him for a little while, he will hold our hearts forever, I will tell you that my baby was too special, too perfect to stay. I love my son more than anything on this earth, I cant imagine a day not saying his name, not looking at his picture, not talking about him or his bug eyes, or his smile, or all the things that I miss so much. I found this poem and it makes so much sense:

Go ahead and Mention my child,
The one that died, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me heal by releasing
The tears that I try and hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending he didn't exist.
I'd rather you mention my child,
Knowing that he has been missed.
You asked me how I am doing.
I say "pretty good" or "fine"
But healing is something ongoing.
I feel it will take a lifetime.
--Elizabeth Dent

It's so true, I refuse to pretend that my son didnt exist, that his time on this earth didnt mean something. Talking about me shows that he touched your heart, shows that you will carry a little piece of him forever. He is my son, my child, my angel, and most of all, my pride and joy.