Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Two Months

"I don't believe time heals. I don't want it to. If I heal, doesn't that mean I've accepted the world without (him)?"
- Jandy Nelson

Two months. Two months without our sweet boy. Without his smile. Laugh. Sounds. Smell. Voice. 
Two months without being able to grocery shopping with him, driving in the car, jamming out to music, talking with his device, watching movies with, swinging or riding his scooter. 

It's summer time now. The summer I dreamed we would explore the entire state and have epic adventures. We always thought he would get better. That he would get through this and shine even better. We never dreamed that he would stop breathing. That he wouldn't recover from his lack of breath. That he would die in our arms. Nothing. Nothing in this world prepares you for this. 

The agony. Guilt. The way your mind replays every second of the end and you keep thinking what maybe we should have done or could have done. And always come to the same conclusion that our boy was gone. The sadness. Grief. Emptiness. The death of the only life we've known. The death of our own souls. The way our hearts stopped when his stopped. Except we still look like we're living, breathing. 

The way it hurts by breathing, knowing he was out of breath and it took him from us. It hurts to get out of bed. To do anything... because we can and he can't. The guilt. Cuts us straight through like a hot knife. Searing. Burning. Exquisite pain. 

When you lose a child, the act of living is the most painful existence. The grief comes in waves, at times tidal waves as we drown in the swirl of emotions: guilt, sadness, emptiness, agony. 

Every second of every day we live in excruciating pain. All you want is for the pain to end but it won't. Because every morning when we wake up, Kreed is still gone. He's still buried in the ground away from us and we don't get to call his name and see his dimpled face. We walk around ghosts of our former selves. In a life that doesn't feel like ours. In a life we didn't agree to. A life we didn't expect. And Kreed left his life unfinished. 

We have to pick up the pieces...but all the pieces won't be there. Our life will always be empty. A shell of what it once was. Kreed's passing took the joy. Two months. Two months without joy. Unconditional love. Without the main part of our existence. With a life full of complete and utter emptiness. 

Two months without our buddy. Two months. 


  1. Two months must feel like much longer by now for you two. You are always in my prayers. My boys and I miss Kreed and his videos. His spirit was beautiful and he's always reminded me of my Joseph. I don't even know what to say for your comfort because I can't imagine anything would help you. All I can say is there are so many people who genuinely love you, Kreed and your family. We all mourn with you and hope you can find some type of comfort in that. ((HUGS))

  2. Two months or two years will perhaps bring hard times and I hope good times. Your Blog posts are helping me to mourn the passing of my loved ones in a deeper way.

    I still feel the void of not being able to pick up the phone and talk to my loved one or visit with them or share a vacation. Like you there is emptiness and whenever I visit my relative's house I want to look for that special person and they are not here.

    I see the pictures,memories and I can still sense their presence by the smells,sights and sounds. The tears flow even it's been over 5 years. Oh Erin my heart aches for you I still can't accept the fact that the loved one has departed.

    There is happiness and laughs but there is sorrow. Cooking with my Grandmother's favorite pot brings a bittersweet feeling of happiness and sadness. It does not matter who passed away you still mourn.

    I can only offer my empathy and sympathy,love and good thoughts. They say with time you heal. Is that really true? I don't believe so as there is always that void. I won't ever be able to feel your emotions 100 percent as having a child pass away well that's the unfair and unexpected part of life that one is never prepared to face.

    Life is just that it has ups and downs. No one can expect a predictable life And that's not fair!!!

  3. I have walked through the hell that is grief. It is a long, lonely walk, even with someone who is also grieving walking beside you. They say that time heals, but it isn't time. Time does nothing but pass. Your whole world has collapsed - and it is with time that you will find a way to rebuild it, but it will never be the same, and you will never stop missing him. Eventually, it will stop hitting you in the stomach every morning, in those prewaking moments - the horrible realization that your entire world has changed. Someday, it will not sit on your shoulder all day and all night, coloring every conversation, every interaction. You will find joy again, and feel pangs of guilt for it - and then remember Kreed's loving nature and that he would want you to feel joy, because he loved you and would never want you to feel sad. Grief is like being dropped into your own private Hell... time doesn't heal anything - but to get out, you have to keep walking. I remember that walk, and I wish no one ever had to feel that kind of pain. So many are taken from this world with so much life left to live... but the years he had here were made so much brighter with his moms by his side. How lucky you all were to experience so much love. I will think of you both, and of Kreed, often and I will smile because I am eternally inspired by that love.

  4. Hi Kreed's Mom,
    I am from Malaysia. I have been following Kreed from YouTube.

    I am deeply saddened by the loss that you and your family have encountered.

    Kreed is an amazing guy. I am sure he is a happy angel now.

    Take care.