Sucks but True

I think that it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyways, smile), I'm a "changed" person since the loss of Alexander.

Many times, I want to write "better" but I wonder if that's too conceited. Even if it's not conceited, is it even true? Am I really a "better" person?

I know that my life (now) is much sadder than it was before he died but I think that my kids life is better. That I'm a "better" (read: more relaxed, less anxious) mother. That I try to remember that cookies for dinner isn't the end of the world. That control over all of the aspects of one's life does not keep you alive. Trust me, I tried.

Speaking of control, before I met my husband, in my naivety, I truly believed that if I took good care of myself (worked out, ate right, didn't drink, unfortunately, I didn't think about the mental aspect...) that I would live forever. Seriously.

You can imagine my surprise when he told me the truth (pretty near grounds for not accepting his marriage proposal, no, they didn't happen in the same night, smile). Just to get a couple of things straight, I am educated and was not raised by wolves.

When Alexander was sick, I employed the same techniques as when we almost ran out of gas in "bum fuck nowhere Mexico". I wished him well. I prayed him healed. I promised all the things that I would do if he just lived. I thought about it so much and so hard that I really thought that it would happen. No such luck.

While I have lost most of my naivety, I have not forgotten about my promises. I can't tell you exactly what they were (I can't remember), but, I know what they were "about".

Acceptance. Compassion. Empathy. (To name a few)

I am a better person because he lived and died and I know that saying that doesn't make me conceited.

I also know that I couldn't be a better person and have Alexander in my arms.

Sucks but true.