Nothing feels real anymore...

It's hard to believe that a year has gone by without you in it.  A whole year, and it feels as if the world and everyone in it is moving around you but you stand still, time stands still, and yet it goes on, and when you finally move again, you're not sure how long it has been.  You only know that nothing feels real anymore.  It's easy now to pretend like everything's okay even when I know that I feel empty inside.  But I have to keep going so I do what I can.  It seems like the more time goes on, the less I can remember, and all I have left of you are pictures....the same old pictures, and one sits very clearly in my mind.....the last picture of ever took of you.  The one from the day you died.  I see that face when I see you.  

For three years you fought cancer, and almost all of it you fought with a smile, until the last three months, which were the toughest.  And when I try to think of you before that, it's hard to remember you ever being happy, even though I know in my heart you were.  I try to comprehend the fact that this is my life now, but I can't.  I don't think time will really make a difference, just cause a deeper sorrow in my heart.  I just can't believe that I had a child that would be six years old this year and he's not here with me anymore.  I would gladly take your place if I could...

Just know I'm here, thinking of you, til the day we meet again, Buddy, love you...

People always say time will help but I don't believe that....

I can't believe this much time has gone by without you here.   People always say that time will help, but I don't believe that.  The more time that goes on, the worse it gets.  I have to keep going on without you.  I have to live every day with out you in it, and it's not right.  This wasn't how everything was supposed to happen....but now it's been almost five months and it feels like what's left of you is just slipping away.  

I can't even walk by the "Boy's Section" of the store without tearing up. I just want my Son back.  I want to remember you, and not remember how sick you were or how you suffered, but I can't.  I think of you and I go back to that moment everyday.  You were the best part of me, and now I've lost that.  I keep myself going for your baby sister.  We talk about you every day, and she looks at your pictures and says your name.  

I guess for now I just have to keep doing whatever I have to to survive life without you.  We all love and miss you so much....

Our lives are made up of a series of moments...

Lately, thinking of you is torture.  Not just because you're not here, but because when I remember you, I remember how much you suffered.  It almost hurts more than the fact that you died.  I am scared that you felt pain, or that you were scared.  I don't know how to describe the feeling, other than telling you that it makes me feel like I'm dying on the inside.  My heart is broken for you, and to add to the hurt, I'm torturing myself more by watching Now is Good, again. It helps me to feel the pain that I try to hold inside all the time, and it breaks my heart over and over again.   

I wish my memories of you were happy ones, but instead, I remember how pale your skin turned, and how you almost looked like you could be sleeping.  I remember holding you, and your arm falling behind my back.  I remember the coolness of your hand, and how I held it in a way that would make me feel like you were holding it back too.  Now all I have left are little moments that I'll never get back.  

 I'm finding it harder and harder to remember how happy you always were, even though you spent most of your life happy, even when you had no reason to be. 

 I just want this pain to go away.  How am I supposed to live the rest of my life without my son?  Why is life so cruel, giving me something so special, and then taking it away from me?  I just don't get it...I need something in my life to make sense!

The more I try to understand life, and why this happened, the more I don't understand it.  People try to make themselves feel better by believing that everything happens for a reason, but it's just not true.  There is no reason for an innocent child to suffer, and die.  Trying to come up with a reason for all the terrible things that happen in life is crap.  Terrible things just happen.  And we just have to live with it.  

Reality hits, and you're gone again.

It's been just over a month since you died, yet it feels like it's been a year.  Every morning, for just a moment when I wake up, I think you might be waiting for me down stairs on your bed, and then reality hits, and you're gone again.  I feel like I'm living in an alternate universe where I have to tell myself everyday that you really did exist, because now that life feels so far away.  I try to keep myself busy everyday so I won't be sad, but the sadness still finds a way to creep back into my heart.  The worst part is reliving that horrible day when you died, over and over, again.  I remember every moment of your breath slowing down until you just couldn't breathe anymore, and it makes me so, so, sad for you.  You had to go through so much pain and suffering, and it kills me.  I wish I could have taken all those moments away from you.  Even through the toughest times, you were brave and had a smile on your face.

It makes me so angry, because there was never a cure for you.  You never had a chance, you only had time.  We went back to the clinic the other day, the doctors read us your autopsy.  The tumor had grown very large, and wrapped itself around your heart, leaving you with just a small piece of your right lung left to breathe from.   They said that the tumor showed that all of the chemo you received while we've been in Boston, did nothing.  Your tumor did not shrink at all, it may have given you just a little bit more time, but it never shrunk.  

It's hard to think that this is how the rest of our life will be.  I'm scared for us, and I'm scared for you.  I just wish I knew that you were okay.  I wish I could tell you how much I love you, and miss you.  Your sister misses you too, she says your name now.  She'll point to a picture of you on the wall and say, "Ti-tin."  I'm scared for the day when she'll ask me about you.  How do I tell her that you died?  It's hard enough when I'm around strangers and they ask me about my kids.  How do I say that it's just one kid now?  I really don't know the answers to anything anymore, life doesn't really make sense.  I'm just trying to do my best to go through each day until we meet again.  We all love you so very much, Christian.  You will be in our hearts and on our mind, always...

"Did you know that childhood cancer kills more children than any other disease in America?  Yet the National Cancer Institute spends less than 4% of its annual $5 billion budget on pediatric cancer research. We believe that our elected leaders have an obligation to protect our most vulnerable citizens by making childhood cancer research a national priority."- The Truth 365

Below I have linked a petition to urge the President and Congress to make Children's Cancer Research a PRIORITY!  Please take a few moments to sign, and if you can, please donate, every little bit helps!

http://www.thetruth365.org/petition/
http://www.thetruth365.org/one-voice/donate/
http://www.childrenscancer.org/main/ways_to_donate/

You should have lived....

It's been sixteen days since you died...and it hurts me even more because you should have lived.  How did this happen?  How can you have the best odds in defeating cancer, and still come out with the short straw?  When you were first diagnosed with cancer, we were told that you had a ninety percent chance of survival, and the tumor had a favorable histology.  I really don't get it.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you are gone.  I only hope that you felt no pain.  I'm the saddest I've ever been in my life, and the only peace I can find is knowing that you aren't suffering anymore.  

I saw you in my dream the other day...it's weird because my dream had nothing to do with you, but you appeared in my arms and gave me the biggest hug you've ever given me.  I told you that I loved you and you said it back to me too, and then you were gone and I woke up.  Dreams are the only place I can talk to you anymore.  When I'm awake I can only remember the way you died...and how you looked.  I can still feel the way your hand felt in mine... Now all I have left of you are memories, and your ashes.  I'm wearing some around my neck in a  sea turtle pendant so I can always have a little piece of you right next to my heart.  I know this pain will never go away....I'm just going to have to learn how to live with it.  I just don't know how I'm supposed to go through the rest of my life like this, though.  

You were four years old, you shouldn't have died....I should be holding you in my arms right now.  It's not right, it's not supposed to be like this.  You were truly a Saint, Christian, different than any other child I have ever known.  You were so happy all of your life, never complaining, even though you had every right to do so.  There was something so special about you.  I still remember, as a baby,  I was so scared of letting you go, for a month I barely let anyone touch you, even your own father.  I couldn't stand the idea of not having you in my arms.  I literally would not set you down.  You stole my heart from the minute I found out I was pregnant with you, and you will have it for the rest of my life.  Please know that I love you so much, Christian Mark Bryant.  My heart will ache for you every day for the rest of my life... 

Rest in Peace Christian Mark Bryant 12/12/2010 - 03/30/2015

Love You Forever  

But at night time, when that two-year-old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

- Robert Munsch

Thank you, Jason Frank, for the beautiful pictures.

Jason A. Frank

Sports Editorial and Commercial Photographer

131 High St.

Waltham, MA 02453

(330)-635-1247

http://www.jasonafrank.com/

It's weird the way life turns out sometimes...

"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about." - Angela Swhindt

Hi everyone, I know it's been quite sometime since I put up a blog post about Christian ( or my thoughts about him ), so I decided to write a little update on him, and talk about something that's been on my mind.  Firstly, Christian is doing quite well right now.  He is home, and starting to gain back a little of the weight that he lost.  His tumor hasn't grown since he got the intensive chemo in January, and right now he's staying stable.  He is getting an oral chemo at home, but Chris and I have got some decisions to make about where we go from here.  The chemo he's getting now, he's gotten through an i.v. before...it worked, but it won't work forever.  It's a hard thing to make decisions about someone's life, especially when that decision can kill them, and especially when that person is your child.  He can't tell us how he really feels or what he wants, we just have to decide and hope that it was the right thing to do.  I never thought at twenty two I would have to be thinking about these things....it's weird the way life turns out sometimes. 

But on to what's been on my mind for a while, and please don't take it the wrong way, it's not meant to upset anyone.  It's just something Chris and I hear all the time from people we know, or just people who know about us.  They tell us, "You're so strong, I don't know how you do it."  I don't think people realize that what we do is not strength.  I do consider us to be strong people for different reasons, but it's not because we are caring for our sick child, or dealing with the emotions that come with it.  I think what we do is the same thing any of you out there would do for your child.  We don't do it because we're super human, we do it because we have to, we do it because we love our Son.  He is the strong one.  At four, he has survived almost three years of cancer.   His strength is what keeps me going.  Christian doesn't give up, so we don't give up.  For him, there isn't something else, this is what he's known his whole life.  Some days aren't so good for him, or us either.  We get through it though, we do what we have to do to get by.  So I guess what I'm really trying to say is that, we are not special, or different from anyone else out there....we all have choices to make in life, Christian chose to rise to the occasion, and he fights everyday, so we will be there by his side, and will do whatever we can to help him, not because we're strong, but because he is, and so is our love for him.  

    

It's the little things that matter most...

 This past week was hell, and I can honestly say that I have never felt so terrified in my whole life.  We were in the ICU for over a week.  Christian's heart rate was in the 140's and higher, and his tumor had started to put pressure on his heart.  He was constantly running a temperature, and things were starting to look pretty bad.  We had a scare on Tuesday night because the machine was reading Christian's heart rate at 100, then 200, within seconds of each other.  It kept going back and forth for a little while, and then the Doctor told us that it was a sign that he was going to die soon.  Instantly I felt so panicked that I thought I might have a heart attack, and I felt like I was going to be sick.  I started crying and trying to prepare myself for what was about to happen, when a nurse came in and said that the machine was malfunctioning.  They fixed it, and his heart rate was actually down to 100 BPM.  He has been "stable" since then....slowly getting a little better.  So for now, here we are.  We were moved back to level six, the Oncology floor. 

With all this being said, I really thought that this would be my last week with Christian, and for once, I am extremely happy to be wrong.  A few days ago, I did something that I don't do a lot, I prayed to God...I asked Him to spare Christian's life, and I also asked Him if He could not save my Son, to please, please, let him have one more good day, one more day where he could just be himself.  Although I thought my plea for help was hopeless, my prayers were answered.  Christian is still by my side, fighting to get better, playing with his trains like he used to, and actually staying awake for more than just a minute here and there.  I can't stop smiling when his face lights up from watching his favorite movies.  It's the little things that matter most.  Even though his cancer is still there, I can see him getting a little better each day.  All I can say right now is, "Thank You God!"  

You might be wondering now why I don't pray a lot, if I believe in God, and with all that my Son is going through, all I should be doing, is praying.  It hasn't been so easy for me, though. I've always believed in God, but over the past few years, I started to lose my way.  I am probably the most stubborn person in the world, and it sounds childish, but I am so stubborn, that I had to be going through the weakest point of my life for me to ask for help.  I'm like that with everybody, but it shouldn't be that way.  I'm trying to be a person who's not ashamed to ask for help.  It's hard, but I'm trying my best.  

Although this week started out as the worst week of my life, it ended up being the best one instead. Seeing my Son, despite everything, improving a little every day, gives me hope, and strength.  If he can do it, so can I.

Matthew 7:7 - Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: