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The House Guest

Our vacation did exactly what I intended; distract me from the first holiday season without my son. 
It was only a couple days after Enzo died, I knew I couldn't be at home this Christmas. I told Brad I didn't really care where we went, but I wanted Christmas Day to not be in our home. There are too many holiday memories in this house. We still have glitter on the wall from our years with the Glitter Bomb Christmas Tree fiasco. Sometimes, I still vacuum up glitter. 

I couldn't be at home this year. Not this one.  And my support group has taught me that's ok. It's quite normal and there's nothing unhealthy about it. There's no wrong way to grieve. So the best gage for your grief is doing what seems right.


So, we booked a cruise. Months ago, because part of the healing was in the anticipation of trying something new. No one in the family has been on one, so it was perfect. Our youngest, Keirsey, decided she didn't feel comfortable going. While that was sad, we didn't pressure her. She's had other loss in her life besides her brother and not going was what she needed. That's ok. 

So me, Brad, and Shauna spent months talking about, planning, and anticipating this cruise. The distraction worked. It worked all the way through Christmas Day. I only remembered it was Christmas when a crew member would sing out "Merry Christmas" as we walked by. It was just what I needed. 

There were also times, like the first 30 minutes on board, when all the passengers (including Brad and Shauna) danced the Cupid Shuffle as we left Galveston and I cried my eyes out, knowing how much Enzo would LOVE this.  He would be dancing himself a fool and laughing. It was too loud & exciting for anyone to notice my tears. So I just let them fall. 

There was the 4th day, sitting on deck with Brad, enjoying a burger and watching the ocean roll by when I suddenly started crying uncontrollably. So I excused myself and went for a walk alone. I was on this cruise, having the time of my life, BECAUSE my son died. That fact was never lost on me. It was a constant companion. 

"You're here because Enzo is dead. You picked this vacation as a distraction from grief. Doesn't that make you feel bad? It's amusement. It's leisure. You should be constantly grieving." 

I know these thoughts are not right. I can and will enjoy life again. That's part of the grief journey. I also know she's is my forever friend. She's here to stay. Like someone in your home you never wanted in your home but now has a legal right to stay. So here we are: me and the fucking house squatter called grief.

Every moment of my life from now on will be this. This ever present knowledge that Enzo is missing. He's missing on all these new moments we make as a family. And it's bitter. Painful. It aches. But it's also ok. 

Its ok because that pain is a reminder that I had a son. A son that carefully picked me to be his mom. He chose me over everyone and loved me abundantly. He loved being a "mama's boy." He told me often but swore me to secrecy "because I got a reputation to maintain." As Mom, I was perfectly fine with that. 

It's because of that love that I have this new friend, this new house guest, this bittersweet presence with me. 

So of course, on this cruise, I had several moments with just me and Enzo, mostly moments as the sun set. He was with us in a unique way. 

I know not everyone can take a cruise to get away from their grief. I understand. I was able to do something more extravagant than I normally do, but I can't STAY distracted. I can't live on a cruise ship. 
I have to learn to live with the missing. 

And so I shall. I have the rest if my life to learn. 

Christmas Cruise 2022

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