Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Approaching One Year

It is only the beginning of June, and I'm sure these next two months will bring out the emotions in all of us. May was rough enough on it's own and I must say that I was glad to see the month come to an end. I expected that the one year anniversaries would be hard, but I didn't expect to feel knocked off my feet. It's not like we didn't know it was coming, yet the lull wasn't long enough between waves to stand back up. Every week in May revealed a giant waving red flag reminding us that Cooper was gone.

May is a pretty rough month for us. It has been two years since Cooper was diagnosed with GM1 and as much as I'd like to, I will never forget that day. Last year we held the first ever Cooper's Quest event and it was the only one Cooper would be alive for. One year ago, on Memorial Day, was the last time we heard Cooper laugh out loud. I think that because laughter as a first was so significant, it makes the last time much more poignant. It's one of my most favorite and coveted memories, to think Cooper so giggly over silliest sounds and noises. He would laugh so hard pausing only long enough for you to do it again and again creating a never ending cycle of laughter.

Oh month of May
You burn, you sting, you left a scar.  

Diagnosis Day lay stagnant,
within these walls of May.  

Two Mother's Days I had with you,
and now there are no more.  

A founding quest amongst these Days,
bittersweet memories.  

Memorial Day on summer breeze,
a smile, a laugh, the last of these. 

All these memories are still so close to the surface and I find myself still trying to obtain that elusive {balance}. A way to grieve and the space to feel sad while relishing the joy he brought to our lives. I still try to live life to the fullest even in his absence, one of the top lessons learned from my little one. Most days the good memories take over and I find myself remembering laughs, and hugs, a family surrounded in love.

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