The Lense of Max's Death

I can see how easy it would be after the death of a child to become jaded.  I am "bent" that way in the first place, and grief has only magnified this character-flaw.  I told Todd the other day how *sick* I am of seeing everything through the lense of Max's death.  What do I mean by that?  I mean that everything I look at now has Max's death in between me and whatever it is - I filter the thought through the trauma of Max's death to my life. 

For instance -

• I cannot smell flowers from a florist anymore without thinking of a funeral.  That smell is forever a reminder of being in the funeral home at the viewing with my son's dead body laying in a casket.  And now, there are "funeral" songs.  I cannot enjoy them on the radio EVER AGAIN, because I associate the depth of the song with the pain of hearing it near a casket.
  
• Someone, anyone, even remotely complaining about their child in any way just sets me off, thinking that they don't realize how easy and fast that child can be taken away by death.  I just want to shake them and beg them to appreciate every moment they have that kiddo!  This is a common thing I read on the bereaved parents chat boards.
  
• Holidays - "Merry" Christmas?  "Happy" New Year?  Those two phrases said in a compassionate friends meeting will likely bring eye rolls and groans ... why?  Because it's hard to fathom how anyone can ever be "merry" or envision a "happy" new year when their child is dead.

I can go on and on and on, surely you get the idea.  I have been assured that Max's death won't be "front and center" in my vision for the rest of my life and that the first two years are, by far, the hardest.  The filter will unclog and I will be able to 'see' things without thinking how Max's death has affected how I 'see' it. 

When a child is born into your life, *everything* changes.  It's no different when a child is taken away by death.  *Everything* changes.  I have this ongoing discussion with my counselor about "the person" I was before Max died.  She believes at the core, that person is still there, and will emerge again.  With different priorities and outlooks, but still there.  I believe that person is dead and gone, much like Max is.  Gone forever from this earth.  And someone new was born that awful August day - a bereaved mom with a broken heart.  Yes, I will learn to live and grow with this heart, but I will never be who I was before that day, I just don't believe that person is still here.  I've said it many times before, "normal died with Max", and so did that person who believed that the world was right and nothing bad would ever happen to her household.