September, again. The month that took my son away from me. The month that takes the grief that I keep hidden 11 months of the year and flings it out from hiding, tossing it around until I break down and acknowledge the fact that I am not really "handling" it as well as those would like. You know the ones that have never lost a child. They expect you to "get over it", "move on", "he is in a better place", all the things they tell you so that they themselves can be comfortable and happy and not have to deal with others grief.
So in September, I grieve. Openly. Loudly. Without apologies.
Deal with it.
Sunday, September 04, 2011
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