Triggers

I was at the grocery store last week and I saw Wesly’s pediatrician, who had taken such good care of him growing up. She was laughing with another one of her patients, in the dairy isle. I made eye contact with her and my eyes started to tear up. Realizing I didn’t want to answer her if she asked how Wesly was, it was too much. I turned around, wiped away my tears and quickly went through the self serve check out line. As I’m putting things away in my car, and I’m all alone (I think) I just break down and cry. This man drives by and sees me, gets out of the car and asks if I’m okay. I say I am, embarrassed that he saw me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him, no, it won’t ever be okay. It’s been over a year and a half, and my life is still a shell of what it once was. Some days, I think I’m doing better and then other days, I’m sobbing in the parking lot of the grocery store.