I see ambulances drive by me and I immediately pray for the person in it. I have done this for years, years before DJ passed away. What do I see and remember every time I see an ambulance? I see the ambulance I was following the day of DJ's accident. I remember DJ being in it and it pulling over to work on him. I remember my own flashing hazard lights going on while I was speeding along behind it.
There are chocolate kisses in my refrigerator. They have traveled three houses. What do I remember when I look at them? I remember DJ's funeral and asking people to bring lots of chocolate to the luncheon because he loved chocolate. Those kisses are from his funeral. That is what I see when I see them.
I have a small porcelian cat in my hutch that sits in the front of every thing else, directly in the middle for all to see. It is little, didn't cost much and to most people means very little. All that said though, I see a gift DJ gave me for Mother's day, a small cat that he couldn't wait to give to me so he gave it to me early. It reminded him of our own cat and he just couldn't contain his excitement--that is what I see and remember when I see that little inexpensive cat.
What do you see? What do you remember? To the people around us they may not understand why chocolate kisses are so important or why a small, insignificant figurine can mean so much to us.
To other people they may not understand why we see a car, a television show, a piece of clothing, etc that makes us remember, makes us see things they cannot see. We the bereaved see two worlds-the one in front of us and the one with the memories of our child in it.
I am at a point in my journey that most things I see now give me good memories-not too many cause me great amounts of pain and grief. Every now and then something can pop up and surprise me but not as much as year one or year two or even year three.
If you have lost a child be thankful for the things that remind you of your child. Try to keep only the good thoughts associated with them if you can-bad memories take care of themselves plenty without our help. If you are reading this and haven't lost a child please understand our attachment to these things, to these memories-they are forever part of our second world we live in and we are trying very hard to balance those worlds.