One Year

Last weekend was the one year anniversary of losing our son. I wasn't sure what to expect emotionally, but I figured it would be fairly awful. I wasn't wrong... 
Every day since losing Zach has been difficult. Some more so than others, but none have been easy. Reminders of what we lost are everywhere. There is no avoiding the memories that flood your mind, and replay like a film strip through your head. I see his face in crowds, and have to constantly remind myself that it's not him. 
So when people say "It gets easier with time." they are lying. Or they've never lost a child. It does not, in fact, get easier. Judging by this past week, I'd say it gets harder. 
One year has passed. One birthday, one Christmas, one Mother's/Father's day, one Labor day, Memorial day, Easter, etc. Just one. Three hundred and sixty five days. But how many more to go? Dan and I are still considered young, so how many more trips around the sun do we have to go? And all of them without our child. The thought of surviving even one more day is often too difficult a task... Especially this past week. This has been one of the hardest weeks for me in some time. I have felt physically weak, sick, exhausted, angry and hopeless. I have barely eaten or slept. I have found myself crying and unable to stop, several times. And I have watched the love of my life suffering as well, and felt powerless to help him. 
So when does this "easier with time" part begin? When does seeing parents and children together stop making your chest ache? When can you walk by your child's room, without looking in & hoping to see them? When does answering the "Do you have kids?" questions stop causing panic attacks? How long does it take before dusting the box that holds your son's remains becomes "normal"? So far, I can honestly say the answer isn't a year. 
I know we have no choice but to take it one minute, one hour, one day at a time. But it is by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And there are many days when I doubt my ability to go on. When I can't fake a smile any longer. When trying to stay positive gets to be too much, and I just break down. When I want nothing more than to close my eyes and pretend this has all just been a bad dream. When I would give anything to see my husband's eyes light up, even if just for a few minutes. To be able to give him even a little of the joy back that he has lost. 
This is our struggle. Our path in this life. And I have to cling to the idea that there is a reason for it. That we are meant to carry this burden for some purpose. And I know that Zach is always watching us, and I refuse to let him down. So I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and carry on as best I can. I will continue to channel my son's energy and love of life, and I will remind myself that I am doing it for him. And in my darkest moments, I will close my eyes and picture his smile. 
We survived one year... We can do this...

                             My little family... My heart and soul.