Triggers.

There are so many triggers to things that make me unbearably sad about the death of my son. A song on the radio, a garden, seeing children with similar glasses at the supermarket for example, children from his primary school walking past my apartment, driving or walking past a place where we once walked; any number of things. This happens at least once a day and I have a hardout cry for several minutes.

A few minutes ago I stumbles upon pictures of children who survived Meningitis. They had amputated limbs; sometimes both arms and legs. Seeing them made me think of my son in the hospital. Surgeons operated on his legs in an effort to try and remove the pressure and swelling. We were told that they'd probably have to amputate. I can't imagine our active big boy having to live with that. I know that he would have been very brave though and found a way to get by. Somewhere I'm relieved that he didn't have to though. Do you understand? Of course I wish with all of my heart that he had survived no matter what.

So, trigger number one for the day. Time to take an anti-anxiety pill before it becomes too bad.