I’m quickly learning that each day has a new struggle. Not the typical struggle I was once knew. No, this is altogether a very different struggle. Before I simply struggled arriving on-time or keeping my t-shirt clean longer than 30 minutes only to have Christopher greet me with his oatmeal laden face.
Now, I have to tell myself to breathe. My struggle is staying busy long enough for fear of collapsing at the thought that it has been one month since I discovered my lifeless son in his crib. One month since I held him in my arms or heard him call for me.
Today, my struggles include fighting back tears as I passed the firemen that tried to save Chris’ life. Tomorrow, I will have to remind myself that I am not having a heart attack. That the pain in my chest and the difficulty breathing will pass. I know that I will have to tell myself that I will see him again… because one day I will. And, this is a new struggle that I am becoming all too familiar with.