It's not "get over", it's getting past

Throughout my journey of grieving my child I have learned that you never "get over" losing a child, you get past it.  You live through each day, sometimes it's like trudging through mud, other days it's like walking in the cold ocean water in the soft sand on a sunny day.

In this joyous holiday season, I am enjoying time with my loved ones, especially my husband and my daughter/  And except for setting up both of the children's trees, I have not thought sadly on my son.  Lorelei loves all of the "tees" but she gravitates more towards the little blue tree all lit up for Trey.  She is constantly taking his ornaments off and showing them to me.

Sometimes grief is like a Christmas tree, the joy of the ornament weighs down the branch but the whole  tree is still beautiful.

So tonight was the first night that I folded into a sorrow spell.  I was listening to the Garden State soundtrack and this song comes on by Colin Haye:

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

We get past, but we never "get over" losing our children.