We knew this day was coming…

I have spent the past week posting one poem each day on Facebook that I had written since my son has passed. Writing is my therapy. It helps soothe my thoughts and anxieties. I hope it continues to help others since I just renewed my domain for another year. Speaking of another year, here we are! Another anniversary…

This date is my cross at the side of the road. Today marks the third anniversary since my son died. Yesterday, I got to say it was two plus years. Now, I am forced to acknowledge an additional year. We knew this day was coming. As a bereaved parent, like all bereaved parents, certain things are triggers and hit us all very differently. For me, dates are huge! I still want to celebrate the life he had and the years I had with him. Death does not change the love you have for your child(ren).

As a married couple, “we are having a baby” should be the happiest words you share. I know for me they were! All my pregnancies were planned. We beamed with joy each time we shared our good news. We knew what was coming!! Now, imagine the sorrow when you get the news that your son has died. It doesn’t matter the age, but in my situation, he was 24 years old. Three years ago today was that day…

The days I had my babies and became a mother were the happiest days of my life. When I speak of dates, it is similar to biblical terms for me. We have “BC” in biblical terms “before Christ” and then we have after. Same here except it is “with Cody” and then “without.” I had a life before children. It was great. The part of my life, since I met my husband and started our family, was a totally different “me,” a better me! Same for my life after losing a child, a totally different me, but changed in a totally different way, with appreciation for many things I had taken for granted! I am sad, but know happiness. I feel weak, but know I am strong. My heart breaks, but I have so much love!

When I miscarried in between my two kids, it was devastating and heartbreaking, to say the least. One of my sister-in-laws and my best friend we’re both due around the same time. My mother wanted to tell them so I could avoid the awkwardness of it, but I chose to tell them. If I hadn’t, they would not know how to share their joy with me. And, I was still very happy for them. It was my brother’s first biological child and my best friend’s first born. Turns out, getting pregnant wasn’t my issue. I delivered my son three months after them.

Now, telling people you are expecting being the happiest news, telling someone you lost your child (after delivering and at any age) is by far the worst and most devastating news! In the same case as my miscarriage, I choose to talk about it openly, and for the same reason. I don’t want anyone feeling awkward around me, especially when speaking about my son. I enjoy talking about him and truly hope people don’t get tired of me doing so. It keeps his memory alive for me.

As I acknowledge this date, August 20th, I am reminded of the joy of finding out I was pregnant again, of delivering a son to carry on the family name, to the chaos that comes from having a boy who was involved in so many things, loved all kinds of music, fought for hours to do fifteen minutes worth of work, could take a truck apart in no time and never failed to put it back together with leftover parts, who loved to sing at the top of his lungs, loved to hunt anything and everything, and when he loved anything or anyone, it was with everything in his being (which turns out was how he fought also), and left a trail of many family and friends who still miss him almost as much as I do.

So, we knew this day was coming. For the next 364 days, I now have to say he has been gone three plus years. Another year! Forever and yesterday combined into one. I do hope the message he left for me to tell others has stopped any new members to this club. I am not sure what the statistics are today for families who have lost a child. They used to be around 19% (or almost 1 out of 5 parents). Today, I am sure it is higher with the rampage of violence we have experienced. Too many, but again, none of us are exempt.

Today, put a smile on your face if you knew my son. I will. Speak of memories or stories that make you laugh or smile. He is missed beyond belief by many, and his life is worth never forgetting! Today, with the many who have gone before, and several who have followed, we cry because they are gone, but we smile because they were here. Forever loved and never forgotten…

#gonethreeyears #seemslikeyesterday #forever24 #thedashinthemiddle

Author: Christina Herold Trueblood

My name is Christina Trueblood. I am married and live in Central Illinois and am the mother of two, a daughter and son. Unfortunately, I lost my son in August 2017 in a single vehicle truck accident a couple of miles from our home. He was 24. I have documented some of my story on Facebook over this first year and have been encouraged to start a blog. I hope to help other families who have gone through loss and struggle to make any sense of it. My faith has kept me going and I believe one day, we will meet those loved ones we have lost again and it will be as if no time has passed. Until then, I want to honor their lives and know they left a mark on my life! Please follow me and share your stories.

3 thoughts on “We knew this day was coming…”

  1. This couldn’t possibly be written any better/ more emotional, yet uplifting and make you smile. You have a way with words that makes it all turn into a little movie. I love you Christina, we love Cody and always will. So thankful I got to cherish him and his amazing family ❤️


  2. Oh Christina my heart aches for you today. Cody was so young, but from all I’ve read about him he lived life like he wanted to live it. Just know you are in my fondest prayers.


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