It is now 8:51pm and I am waiting to exhale. This is always the worst day for me, every year. It is easier, I'll grant you that, than last year and last year was easier than the one before. But I can feel the stress of the day in my body, the tension upon awakening knowing this is "that day."
Solomon would be 9 today if he had lived. And if he had lived, I wonder how he would be. I get so emotional when I see special needs kids, and thank God every day for the normalness my children exhibit.
Today is the only day of the year I give myself permission to ask the whys? Why did this happen to me? Why did this happen to him? Why did this happen to us?
What did I do to deserve this? Technically, not a why question, but something wondered always in the recesses of my mind, my only answer being so I would know what real stress and heartache are, as opposed to the daily stresses and heartaches of every day life.
I just don't think that's a good enough answer.