While the rest of the US television viewing public has been overjoyed to welcome the brand new, shiny television season this week, Momma has hated it. Yes, I said "hate." This very strong emotional response surprised even me, until I really sat down and processed the root of these feelings.
New shows, new story lines, new characters = life moving on. Over the last 8 months we have either been finishing out story lines that started when you were alive, or we've been in constant "repeat" mode. You see, the 2011 season of new shows had just started when you died. I was almost able to mark the passing of weeks since your death by the weeks on shows like "The Biggest Loser." It was a terrible, but strangely comforting reminder.
And now, my refuge - TV - has become a new knife in my heart. How dare the shows move forward with their laugh tracks, occasional dramatic situation, and new plots? Don't they understand I just want to stay in January of 2011? Don't they know life ended on January 26 not just for you, but for a huge part of Momma?
It doesn't help that tonight, in particular, I turned on the last show I watched on January 25, before we found you unresponsive in your crib the following morning. I had a horrific moment of deja vu, until I realized...I have no clue what the story line is about. I had to stop watching the show after you died...it was throwing me into total despair as a reminder of that last night of our blissful life with you, Peanut.
Somehow this new season, and the fact that I was able to turn on that terrible TV show tonight, has also signaled something dark, and scary for Momma. The fact that my grief is morphing. Maybe I'm harder around the edges. Maybe I'm desensitized. Maybe this is just the next hill, the next bend, in the road of my grief. But, life is carrying on...and Momma is too. It feels like a betrayal of you. And I feel so deeply, deeply guilty.
Peanut, please know that Momma's survival is in honor of you. And that my love for you is eternal. Boundless. Beyond to the moon and back.