The Day in August

This is the day in August that can either make or break me.  This is the day that Mark died and this year marks the fifth year.  Looking back - I guess the five year anniversary was not on my mind, but if I had thought about I would have probably painted a very different picture of myself at this point.  I suppose I would have expected me to be a wreck, dreading the day, wishing for things that could never be.  Boy would I have proven myself wrong.  Today was an ok, normal, just your average work load kind of day.

Today started out with me reading my posts about Mark on the blog and shedding a few tears.  That was followed by answering the questions of a 7-year old about Mark and his death.  I expect that at least one child will ask every year.  Then the day started and I really didn't dwell on Mark again until this evening's rosary.

The hardest part of today was watching my 10-year old grief, tears and all, for his uncle.  He was so young, so innocent when it happened that now he must come to terms with it in his own time.  I cried for him.  Oh to be in those shoes and take away his pain.  I would do it in a heartbeat.  I know that wouldn't help him become the man he will be.  This is part of our family no different than a birth.  He must accept it, grief for Mark, and grow up missing him as the rest of us have.  I can't take those steps from him, but I wish I could.

I thank God for His many blessings on our family since last year.  I ask for His continued graces to be given to all of us who grief for Mark, either today or any other day.