At what point to I hold up the white flag and surrender to this enormous loss of my son?
As I sat this evening with my husband and filled out paperwork to form a non-profit organization, Grey's Gift Foundation, I questioned my commitment. I do things 100%, or not at all. And I wondered, can this broken mom continue to give to what broke her?
Some people lose a child, time passes, and they start to rebuild a future. But how can you rebuild a future when you're living so much in the past? Not a day goes by that I don't think of other families that could be affected by some rare disorder. What if I were the only vessel of education that they had, because of Grey? What if I weren't there to speak of him?
I'm so tired, tired of being caught between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I can only give so much. Never do I want my other three boys to feel as if they aren't as important as Grey. But for the past 3 years, he has been my focus. Do I allow that to continue, or do I put him back in line with the others? And if I put him in line, will he fade away?
I haven't quite figured out the best way to try to heal. Do I continue this journey of awareness, a journey so intense that if I close my eyes, I feel him near? Or do I lay down on the floor, cry for a few days, pick myself back up and leave him in the puddle?
I know that there will never be a day that I don't think of Grey. But should there be days in which all I think about is drivers licenses, PKU, and Little League? Where is the line of doing for Grey, and doing for the other three?
At times I think I could blow it all away . . . quit blogging, close my Facebook, disconnect myself from those who have suffered the same fate. I wonder if in doing so, I might breathe a little easier, without the constant connection of Krabbe.
But what if I'm that one, that one that Grey chose to get his message across? Would that lessen his loss if his voice was no longer heard?
There's got to be a point where I take him back, just him, free from disease, free from expectations, free from exhaustion.
Will I ever be?