December 8, 2020 – Happiness and regrets

Today felt like an especially hard day.  I’m not entirely sure why, but it was full of ups and downs.  Yesterday, too.  I’m grateful time is moving forward, because each day does seem to get (slightly) better.  But I’m also sad that time is moving forward because that means I’m getting further and further away from the last time I held my sweet boy.  The last time I saw my boy.  The last time I snuggled my perfect little angel on this earth.  This process of grieving Benny’s loss has been such a random and perplexing mix of emotions.  I’m happy.  I’m sad.  I’m doing well. I’m struggling. Most days I don’t know what I am. 

Today I was full of regret.  Full of an acute awareness of my failings as a mother.  Full of regrets that I didn’t cuddle my Benny every second I could.  Full of guilt that I spent unnecessary time worrying about the stresses of my job instead of being present with my son.  Full of remorse that I didn’t do more of this, or more of that.  The list goes on and on.  I thought about Tom’s post from yesterday about “not going down the rabbit hole” but unfortunately I found myself spiraling in it today.  It’s amazing how the loss of a loved one brings up such feelings of regret. 

In a conversation with a friend this afternoon, after I’d spent a fair amount of time shedding tears over the regrets that filled my mama heart, I was reminded that we’re our own worst critics.  I’m my own worst critic.  My friend told me about regrets she’d been feeling today regarding things she felt she didn’t do relative to a church assignment she was just released from, and it surprised me because she is simply incredible.  I can’t imagine how she had any regrets because she has selflessly served for five years above and beyond anything that could have been expected.  But then she reminded me that we’re all most critical of ourselves, so to counteract the feelings she’s been having, she’s trying to focus on the things she did do instead of the things she didn’t.  Such wise advice from such an incredible friend.  Even though I wish I could go back and do so many things differently during Benny’s short five months, I’m grateful for the things I was able to do and I hope beyond hope that my little boy knew he was loved.  I think he did.  I hope he did.

This evening Isaac and I were invited to go with some friends to a local Christmas light show.  It’s a bright and impressive display of lights in our neighborhood, choreographed to music in ways that are pretty remarkable.  As our friends played and danced around with Isaac, I stepped away for a minute.  My mama heart has been heavy today, as I mentioned, and I just needed a minute to myself to walk with my Benny.  He always uplifts me and I needed him in that moment.

Honestly, it was hard to see such happiness all around when inside my heart just hurt.  Not that I don’t want others to be happy, because I do. I absolutely do. I just miss Benny so much.  I know he’s happy.  I know he’s well.  But I miss him.  In looking at some pictures of him today, I longed to hold him one more time and to kiss his perfect little face one more time.  It’s hard for my mortal heart to accept that I won’t be able to, even though my eternal self knows I’ll see him again.  Goodness, he was just such a sweet boy.  I really miss him.

As I stepped away, the song playing was “Sleigh Ride.”  It’s a song I’ve always loved and which has always brought me such joy.  Tonight as I listened, one line in particular stood out:

“There’s a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy…”

I then found myself thinking, “Boy, I sure wish I could buy a happy feeling right now.”

And then I felt my sweet Benny.  Right there with me, encouraging and uplifting me as he always does.  And reminding my heart that I don’t need to buy a happy feeling, because I already have everything I need to be happy now.

I feel so blessed that I was Benny’s earthly mom.  That I had five months with one of God’s choicest little sons.  That I was working from home and got even more time with him than I would have normally.  That Benny lived a happy and healthy life during his five months.  That we have two other amazing babies who are part of our family and who loved Benny very much.  That Tom and I have been sealed in God’s holy temple and have the potential to be an eternal family with our sweet angel boy.  That we will see Benny again and rejoice at that reunion. 

All these things bring me happiness. 

So I don’t need money to buy a happy feeling. 

I can be happy now. 

Thank you for the reminder, Benny Boy.

I want to be able to work through the pain and emotions I’m having, but I also want to be able to move forward and be happy.  My sweet Benny doesn’t want me to be stuck in the sadness and pain forever.  He is full of love and light and happiness, and he wants my life to be full of those things, too. 

I’ve heard people talk about “moving on” from difficult experiences, like losing a loved one, but I’ve learned in my life and through my work that you don’t ever really “move on” from something so traumatic.  Rather, you figure out where the experience lives in your heart and your mind so you can move forward in healthy and productive ways.  Moving forward instead of just moving on.  Such an important distinction. Because I can’t just set Benny down and move on.  He will always be my son. He will always have a piece of my heart. But I know my angel boy wants me and our family to move forward and make the most out of our lives in all the ways he would if he were here. 

So maybe the happiness doesn’t only come when I move on and reach the imaginary end of this road of grief.  Maybe happiness is found in the going and moving forward.  And maybe I should stop getting stuck in regrets of the past and judging myself on where I am in my journey of grieving, and instead recognize it’s enough that I’m even traveling and willing to take the journey at all.

As I reflected on all of this, it brought to my mind a scripture from Second Nephi in the Book of Mormon: “Men are that they might have joy.”  There it is, in black and white – our loving Lord created us to have joy.  Pure and lasting joy. Not the fleeting happiness that money can buy and which can be taken away. But true, sincere joy. I’ve written about this before, but joy and happiness have been on my mind so much recently as I’ve struggled with the pain of losing Benny.  I’ve felt that I need to reach some milestone before I can be happy or have joy again.  But that’s not how it works.  My Benny reminded me again of that today.  I can be happy now.  He would want that.  Our dear Lord wants that and says it over and over again in the scriptures.  Yes, life is full of trials and struggles, but it’s also full of happiness and joy. All along the way.  Tom and I have felt that so much through this experience, which we’re grateful for because of how deep the pain has been.  At times it’s been unbearably hard, but the peace and comfort we feel from the Lord, as well as the goodness and happiness we feel through others and from Benny, give us the strength to go on.  Even though the pain and sadness still come, there really is so much to be happy about right now. Our family is so blessed. We have so many reasons to be happy.  And, thankfully it’s the true and lasting kind of happiness that “nothing in the world can buy.”