On Konnor’s Second Angelversary I Make A Wish…

I hold a secret desire that wishes could come true. I keep many wishes deep within my heart. I whisper them late at night when the stars are shining bright with the hope they will be heard. I want to possess the secret lamp that I can rub and make all my wishes come true…

I wish I never had to enter into this journey of grief. I want to get off this emotional roller coaster. The climb toward normalcy, to feel I am progressing, to navigate the twists and turns of my moods only to descend back down into gloom. Will it ever get better? Is it just an illusion? My heart still has a difficult time accepting Konnor is gone. I know he is, I just wish it wasn’t real..

People tell me that I must offer hope to others reading these blogs, that grief is forgiving. Believe me, hope is present within me, buried underneath the darkness and the sorrow. Hope is that beacon of light shining through the cracks of my broken heart. The light is guiding me, calling me out and into the light of the living. Yet somehow, hope feels forsaken in someone like me. Grief is unyielding. So I make a wish.

I wish I could talk to you just one more time. I need to know if you are happy in heaven. I want you to talk to me like you used to about your day. Tell me how you are. Let me hear your voice. Do you know how much we love you and how much we miss you? Do you know how much you meant to me? I wish you knew.

There isn’t enough pictures of you. What happened to all the pictures I thought I took? I wish I had more.

I’m sorry for telling you that you were getting too big to sit in my lap. I remember how you looked up at me that day. The confused look on your face made me smile at the time, now it just makes me sad. You only wanted to be close to me. I wish you could sit in my lap again.

Eight short years was just not enough time to spend with you. I wish death did not leave us with feelings of remorse and guilt. As if the unbearable pain of the loss wasn’t enough, guilt over letting life’s obligations steal time from loved ones turns grief into agony. I wish I had spent more time with you than I did. I wish I didn’t let life get in the way.

I wish I could think of you and feel happiness. I think of you and I ache. So much sadness inside of me over your loss, I want to think of you and be happy. I just miss you so much. There is always something to remind me of your absence. I wonder if I will always feel so broken, so empty. I wish I was stronger.

~I had a dream a few days after Konnor died. I was in his house getting the kids ready for something of which is unclear. He was the oldest sibling. He has two younger brothers and two younger sisters. I found one of the boys in an upstairs bedroom. I could not make out which grandson stood before me although I am certain it was not Ryland who is the youngest, as the figure was too tall. He was wearing a mask of some kind, like one you might wear for Halloween. I pulled it off. “Let’s go,” I said. As I pulled this mask off another one was underneath it. I again removed this mask and yet another was in it’s place. He stood there, unmoving. My hands continued to remove mask after mask from his face, there appeared to be no end to the masks. The child before me stood silent and still…unsure of what was happening I began to cry out of fear and frustration. It was after I began to cry in my dream that I awoke.~

The next morning I told my son of my dream and I asked him what it could have meant. He said simply, “you were searching for Konnor.” I began to weep. My subconscious along with my heart and my soul, broken, utterly lost, painstakingly searching for my grandson who is gone forever.

I wish I could have found you.

I used to be carefree. I used to sing at work. Used to be that I made people laugh. I was quite the witty, people-pleaser. I was an idiot. I wish I could be that free again.

I wish Konnor was still here. I wish we had some sign that he had a growing time-bomb inside of him. A tiny hole in his stomach that would take his whole life. I wish we could have known what was happening to you.

I wish we could have saved you.

I will alway feel blessed that I was there the moment that precious child came into this world and took his first breaths of life. I was not there as he took his last breath but I was there moments after. A last kiss on his forehead was all this devastated Grandmother could do. He had his Mom and Dad by his side and knowing he was not alone is comforting to me. I wish I could remove those last horrible moments from their minds.

Today I worked, I made it through another day. I am doing what I am supposed to do to move forward. I am desperately trying to live my life with dignity and grace, yet when grief has again overwhelmed me, exposing the pain that is still within me, I put grace aside. Grief lives within me, in my heart and in my throat and I am unable to hide it. I know it will get better. I just wish it still didn’t hurt so damn much.

I wish this nightmare never happened.

A child runs in a field full of dandelions. Once bright yellow flowers now simply round puffs of exposed seeds. Her hand reaches out, plucks the forgotten flower from the grass, brings it to her mouth, she closes her eyes as she puckers up her lips, takes a deep breath, makes a wish and blows. A hopeful breath sending the seeds on white wings to make-believe places where wishes come true. 

I wish I could turn back time.

I wish you never left.

I wish.

In Loving Memory of
Konnor Mason Schilling
March 9 2007 – November 22 2015
Photo Credit: Dawid Zawila

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Grieving Grandmother to Konnor Mason who passed suddenly at eight years old on November 22, 2015. With this blog I hope to share my thoughts and feelings as I move forward through grief toward hope and healing.

2 thoughts on “On Konnor’s Second Angelversary I Make A Wish…

  1. I’ve tears running down my face as I write this. It’s a beautiful piece of writing which is deserving of your angel. Sending you love and strength in the hope that you will feel it. X

    Liked by 1 person

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