Perspective

I guess it's all perspective . . .

There are so many miserable people in this world. Maybe there are no more than usual. Maybe I just notice them more. I notice them in their nice cars, yelling at the speaker at McDonald's. I notice them, pulling their hair out as their children act like children in Target. I notice them in meetings, focusing on things that will soon pass.

Grief is a crazy thing. It has changed my perspective drastically. We all have choices to make, no matter the situation we're in. We can choose to be miserable, or we can choose to not. At times, I wonder where in the world I get the strength to not be miserable. I know I appreciate life more, love more, and my family and friends more. I know that if I were miserable, it would make everyone around me miserable too.

When I found out that Grey was terminal, I swore that I would not be "that mother who lost her baby". And if you know me, personally know me, you know that I fight that title every day. Because no matter how hard I try, I will always be that mother to somebody. Every day, I have to prove to that I am not bitter, destroyed, miserable.

Don't get me wrong, there are days that I am all those things at one time. But unless you really know me, unless you're one of those few people who really know where to look, you'd never see it.

I think of the gifts that Grey has given me often. So badly, I want to scream that they are just not enough. But I have to remember that there is always someone out there worse off than me. Somewhere, there is a mom who didn't get to say goodbye to her child before he died. Somewhere, there is a mom who doesn't know where her child is. Somewhere, there is a mom who watches her child suffer with a disease just like Grey's every day, begging God to ease his pain and take him Home. Somewhere, there is woman never even given the chance to be a mom. And somewhere, there is a mom about to lose her child and she will always wonder if she showed him enough love.

So I have to choose, every day, that I won't be miserable. I have to remember that if I had it all to do over again, I would do it exactly the same way just to spend 11 months with Grey. I'd do it all over, just so I could say that he was my son.

Grey was the best gift of all.

It's all perspective . . .

My perspective.