The Sun in the Eastern Horizon blinds my eyes but not my mind to my failures and inadequacies.

Yesterday as I drove the kids to school, I descended our hill, the blaring ball of fire was so immense that I could not see in front of me again. ( I say again, at least I think again. I don't really remember why I hit that truck.) It's nice to have something other than me to blame. The sun is an inanimate object. I am sure he can take the heat.

The whole accident came back in full force. The what ifs drowned me in my own self despair. How could I let this happen? How is Loughlin dead? Just writing those words socks me in the stomach taking the air out of my lungs. Almost 8 years and I still haven't conquered the "Acceptance" step of grief. The weight is enormous today. Sunday Loughlin would be 23. My God is there so much difference between 15 and 23? So much time has passed but in my mind, which isn't that stable, it was yesterday, and yet how is Giles a Freshman? Is it understandable that Loughlin will be "Forever 15" and yet everyone else is growing older? I am older, so much older. I feel it everyday. I have friends running marathons, I can't run downstairs to get toilet paper. ( I am sure I can find something else that will work.)

I keep a page for Loughlin on Facebook. I feel like people hate when I am down and only want uplifting posts. WTF These are the shoes I was given to walk this long dirt road we call life. I guarantee if you want to try them on you will be as Anastasia in Cinderella. They will look like a comfortable fit until the truth is revealed. They are my shoes and mine alone. I am not happy that 2 of my kids are in the cold ground. I am angry. I am sad. I am hurt. I feel ripped off. You talk of your grand babies and your weddings and my kids are gone. My future is forever degraded. My life forever decayed. I am a realist. I always have been. The smile on my face is real, or if it is absent it is absent for a reason. I will not pretend. My incredible son is dead. How do you smile through that? I am not always a miserable wretch. I love my other kids. I love to watch their accomplishments. I love to hear them sing. I love to even hear them argue. I love all the things I missed with Rhiannon and Loughlin. So quit looking at me with that pity face, like you could handle this so much better.