"Well... he never existed."
Shock, replaced immediately by incredulity and hurt. The above words were spoken to me by my brother, in reference to Aiden.
I had just been mentioning that I was planning a trip out to see our grandmother to introduce her to little Kevie as her first Bailey great grandson. I corrected myself right away, which confused my brother. He asked who the first was if not Kevin Jr., and I just said matter-of-factly that Aiden was.
"Well... he never existed," was my brother's reply to me.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
The Aftermath
It's been a week since Aiden's birthday. I'm restless, tired, and emotionally volatile. Last weekend was really okay for part of me, the surface I show people so they don't worry, but underneath I'm torn up inside. Last week I had a birthday party for my dead son.
There was no little personal cake for him to tear at and make a mess of, no toys for him to play with, no ribbons or presents or anything that would make celebrating his birthday feel right. I mean, we did the best we could under the circumstances, what with not having an actual baby boy there share our love and joy with. You can read all about it in my wife's blog, so I'm not going to go into detail about what we did.
I feel so lost and unfulfilled. We always talk about this hole in our hearts, the void our children left behind, and everybody has a snappy, optimistic suggestion about filling that hole with love or charity or whatever random virtue is supposed to make us feel good. I don't want to do any of that, though. That's Aiden's spot. He belongs there. Is it utterly selfish of me to want to keep that hole empty for him?
There was no little personal cake for him to tear at and make a mess of, no toys for him to play with, no ribbons or presents or anything that would make celebrating his birthday feel right. I mean, we did the best we could under the circumstances, what with not having an actual baby boy there share our love and joy with. You can read all about it in my wife's blog, so I'm not going to go into detail about what we did.
I feel so lost and unfulfilled. We always talk about this hole in our hearts, the void our children left behind, and everybody has a snappy, optimistic suggestion about filling that hole with love or charity or whatever random virtue is supposed to make us feel good. I don't want to do any of that, though. That's Aiden's spot. He belongs there. Is it utterly selfish of me to want to keep that hole empty for him?
Friday, August 5, 2011
Kaiser Irritante
Let's go a bit off topic for a moment and talk about something that's been crawling under my skin recently: Kaiser Permanente. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this company, it's a large, self-sufficient medical practice/insurance company, almost like a club. So you purchase membership to their insurance and then you get access to their doctors, hospitals, and facilities. Nothing wrong with that. It's their advertisement campaign that's driving me batshit crazy.
The first thing that bugs me is the quantity of advertisements packed into any given hour of radio. Now, to be fair they do take breaks of a couple of weeks in between their ad blasts, but when they're going strong it seems like every time I turn on the radio I'm guaranteed to hear one of their ads with the bad music and Allison Janney jabbering away at least twice for short trips of 15-20 minutes, and closer to 6-7 times if I spend any significant time traveling. Thanks Kaiser, but I don't need C.J. from The West Wing badgering me about health insurance non-stop throughout the day.
The first thing that bugs me is the quantity of advertisements packed into any given hour of radio. Now, to be fair they do take breaks of a couple of weeks in between their ad blasts, but when they're going strong it seems like every time I turn on the radio I'm guaranteed to hear one of their ads with the bad music and Allison Janney jabbering away at least twice for short trips of 15-20 minutes, and closer to 6-7 times if I spend any significant time traveling. Thanks Kaiser, but I don't need C.J. from The West Wing badgering me about health insurance non-stop throughout the day.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Letting Go
A few weeks ago my grandfather passed away. Before you start feeling any sympathy, let me tell you a bit about this guy.
When I was a child my parents brought him into our home, because, honestly, I don't think anyone else would take him. He was a miserable person to be around, always 'joking around' by ferreting out your deepest insecurities and jabbing witticisms down your throat to make you feel as small and insignificant as possible. It wasn't hard for him, he was a genius. He was musically talented in multiple instruments, first class at chess, and his memory was nearly flawless.
So a young boy of 5, of course, was an easy target.
When I was a child my parents brought him into our home, because, honestly, I don't think anyone else would take him. He was a miserable person to be around, always 'joking around' by ferreting out your deepest insecurities and jabbing witticisms down your throat to make you feel as small and insignificant as possible. It wasn't hard for him, he was a genius. He was musically talented in multiple instruments, first class at chess, and his memory was nearly flawless.
So a young boy of 5, of course, was an easy target.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Going Foward
Writing here is really hard for me. Admission of feelings is a foreign thing to most guys. We're strong, we're stoic. We beat our chests and pretend to be invincible. We stand tall in the face of adversity, and face danger head on. We try to convince ourselves that we're modern day superheroes, and, to their credit, our female counterparts let us believe it.
But when it comes to admitting to a weakness, no matter how well deserved, guys will tend to balk.
This isn't a blanket statement, of course. I know there are plenty of men out there in touch with their feelings and completely comfortable sharing them. Neither is the above meant to alienate or effeminize those particular guys in any way (and yes, I just made up a word there). I just mean to point this out to try to help define why it is that, for me, coming here isn't the easiest or most desirable thing to do.
I do it anyway because I'm a man, and, damn it, if a thing's difficult then it's a challenge to best... But really I do it because it helps ease my burden, and at this point I've neglected my burden so long it's begun to weigh heavily on my heart.
But when it comes to admitting to a weakness, no matter how well deserved, guys will tend to balk.
This isn't a blanket statement, of course. I know there are plenty of men out there in touch with their feelings and completely comfortable sharing them. Neither is the above meant to alienate or effeminize those particular guys in any way (and yes, I just made up a word there). I just mean to point this out to try to help define why it is that, for me, coming here isn't the easiest or most desirable thing to do.
I do it anyway because I'm a man, and, damn it, if a thing's difficult then it's a challenge to best... But really I do it because it helps ease my burden, and at this point I've neglected my burden so long it's begun to weigh heavily on my heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
