Our family

Our family

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Retail Therapy

Retail therapy is a common theme in my life, even if it's just window shopping as the art of distraction. I love shopping! The hunt to find and gather all of the things you need and want, so satisfying. Lately I find myself feeling like I need to have things for Oliver or Andrew that I think they need, as if this will make everything better.... Oliver needs that toy, he wants it! I want Andrew to have new boots, a nice new shirt...I think he deserves to have whatever he may want. Feeds right into the season now too, buy, buy, buy. But somehow, all that I've gathered isn't enough, it isn't right....it isn't fixing anything.
I noticed us doing this over the summer as well, we justified buying a few new things and be damned the finances! An Ipad, a PS3 to play movies in...suddenly we NEEDED these things. But when I step back and recognize this behaviour I also recognize what we were trying to fix and what I've been doing all over again.
An Ipad is a great distraction, but it won't bring back my baby. A PS3 player makes it easier to play Oliver's movies, but it isn't like having a little brother to play with. Some new boots are useful for Andrew, but they don't take the pain of losing your son away. These are all just band aids that we are putting on a wound that is irreparable. 
Even if I have everyTHING that I need or want for my family, if I buy, buy, buy everything....it still isn't enough to fill this gaping hole in my heart and it never will be.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Ugly shoes


Someone told me about this poem recently, is it weird to say I like it? 


“A Pair of Shoes”

Author Unknown


I am wearing a pair of shoes.

They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not
theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think
about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.