I most definitely made the right choice not to get a job until around the 5 month mark. I did need something to keep me busy before then, but I was unsure how I would handle being around people before then. I am glad I waited. I can handle things now that I don’t think I could have handled before.

I get to overhear a lot of kid stories at work… since the employees there are all friends they know each other and ask about the first days of school and such. Of course no one knows how painful it is for me to overhear and smile and nod. “My son died 5 months ago,” is not exactly something you volunteer your first month on the job. I do not hide it – but I’m not going to volunteer it, either.

I was especially impressed by the employee who stopped by to say hi to the tellers during a quiet time… with her newborn on her shoulder. And I mean newborn. Teeny tiny, curled up on her shoulder, head tucked under her chin. I didn’t see the baby at first, as I was trying to concentrate on my computer while they talked about babies. But the, “Oh she’s so adorable!” has me glancing up in puzzlement only to look away.

They don’t know. And it sucks.

On the way home I passed a woman walking down the sidewalk with her several kids and pushing a baby stroller. I marvelled how many people have babies everywhere… it feels like the whole world has babies and I stand alone.

As I was mulling this over the music faded out and the Radio DJs came on. “Your little boy is SO CUTE!” one said to another. “You sure make good babies!” I waited a moment, hoping they’d just switch to a different topic, but the DJ started chatting about whose baby photo they have as their computer wallpaper. I switched to my other favorite station that was on commercial. The next commercial comes on: “Are you ready to have kids [here I’m thinking ‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’] who eat healthy?”

Today, apparently, was not a good day for the childless infertile medusa.

::

I was thinking about the milestone coming up, trying to think of some small thing I can do. Nothing big, no planting of ill-fated trees this time. Just something small. In remembrance. I realized what I want to do: I want to visit his grave. It’s been nearly 6 months, and we have not once gone to see it. It’s just a marker, just a number. There is no name, no loving words – no flowers, no monument. There is nothing of us there, and there is little of him there either. Me being athiest, I have no special concerns about where his body lays or how the dirt above him is treated. But yet I feel like I should at least go and see. It feels like an appropriate time to do it.

I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few months about mortality and death – not too surprizing. Also not surprizing is that my perspective has altered on a lot of things. I never knew for sure what I wanted to happen when I died, but there were times that I would think about it. Did I want to be cremated or buried? Did I want a funeral? Funerals were depressing and I didn’t like going to them… so I didn’t really want a funeral.

After Devin died I really kind of got it. The burial or cremation, the funeral… it has nothing to do with me. What I want doesn’t really matter – or shouldn’t. It’s the wrong question to ask. What needs to be asked is: what do the loved ones who are mourning want? What will help them grieve? I had it all wrong before. I’d heard people say it before, but never understood, never gave it any weight, but it is true: funerals aren’t for the dead… they’re for the living.

In times of crisis we must do what we feel we need to to heal our hearts. It’s the only way we will come out the other side with some semblence of acceptance, of mending. Grieving is entirely selfish – by necessity. Remembering what the person was, what they did, what they wanted out of life… it no longer matters to the person who is dead. It matters to the people who remember them. It is those left behind who carry the burden.