It was a coincidence that I pulled a blue and orange popsicle out of the freezer this afternoon.  They’ve always been my favorite summertime snack, especially on hot days like these. My parent’s fridge is usually stocked with them and today was no different. With my no look grab, my heart skipped a beat. 

A little hello from Jensen to his mama. 

My grief has been complex these past few weeks.  Year two has… well it has been complete crap. I wake up every morning wondering when the nightmare is going to be over. It hits me, daily. He was here then he died and I can’t do anything to get him back. Those facts are excruciating to face, yet it is my constant reality.   Somehow I’m able to carry one with my day to day life though. Not without thinking of him, that has never wavered. 

It’s weird to say, but as your grief progresses you learn to live with being eternally sad on the inside. You find a rhythm of this post loss life. Yes, it hits you every morning that your child is gone, but, for me, I have found ways to incorporate him in the day to day. Just like I would if he was physically here. 

So why did it shock me to see the orange and blue pipsicles today? 

Anytime I get a sign from Jensen I stop and appreciate it. I say hello back and tell him I love him, always stay close. Then there’s some kind of rip from the present reality. I look around and see how different today would be if he was here. The picture up top… that’s not how it should be. 

I can easily picture my little boy, all lathered in sunblock in his little swim outfit looking up at me. Like, ‘mom, it’s hot and the pool is cool.’ Instead of me floating here writing this to you all, I’d be watching him float in whatever his raft would look like or he’d be napping inside. So many differences then getting my popsicle sign. 

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. It never will. As a loss parent, I’ll always see where Jensen would playing or walking with me. These signs, they’ll always let me know he’s close and I’m thankful for that, but these reality…. it will never be how it should. 

It’s not okay that it’s that way, but I’m doing my best.