Pretend, Pretend, Pretend: The Quiet Battle Behind My Smile

You may have noticed I haven't posted in a while. I don't even know what to say. It's setting in more and more that Samson isn't here. Some days I don't feel like I can carry the weight of this. Most days, I don't feel like I can carry this weight. Most days, I'm searching for my way out.

Samson's birthday just came. I'm so grateful that we're celebrating with his friends, and I'm so thankful for my friends who came over to make sure I am ok. But pain won that week. I've realized I'm really good at slapping on a happy face. I'm very good at playing pretend. If you need a chameleon, I can be the chameleon. Since Samson has died, that's all I do. Pretend pretend pretend. Pretend like you're ok. Pretend that you're not going to cry. Pretend that you're happy. Act as if you're so glad to be there. Pretend like life is fine. Pretend like you don't think about ending it every single day. Pretend pretend pretend. Keep that smile. Everyone is watching. I don't want to keep that smile. I don't want to leave the house. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to leave Samson's room. I want to curl into a ball in the corner of his bed and hold onto all of his things and cry. I want the world to leave me alone, and I want to lie in my son’s bed, grieving what I should've had.

I recently had someone ask me when it stopped being so hard. I said, I still wish I could reach for a gun every morning. I've just gotten better at faking it. And I have. I've become the master at faking it. Pretending like you still want to be here. Pretending like you're happy. Pretending like life has any value outside of the one child I have left. This is why it's hard for me to blog. My real emotions, my real feelings, ooze out like an infection.

This is where I don't pretend.

This is where you get the real Micheala.

The one who is still broken, the one who is bitter, angry, wrestling with God and questioning everything I have ever done, questioning my existence. What was I made for? Why am I here? What is your purpose, God? Because I don’t see it now.

Gabe made the A-Team for hockey this year. This is a huge accomplishment! And while I watched him play yesterday, I couldn't help but talk to Samson the entire time. Samson, are you seeing this? Do you see your brother? Do you see how much he's improved? He gives all the credit to you, Samson. As soon as he left tryouts, he said, “I know I made the A-Team. I could feel Samson watching over me.” And then, as I sat in the rink yesterday, watching him play against your former team, Mahtomedi, I couldn't help but think I wish you were sitting there with me. I believe you were there and watching. But I wish I could've felt you sitting right next to me. I wish I could've heard your voice. I wish I'd been able to hear you cheering for Gabe.

Our lives are so different, Samson. It's so different without you. I can't believe that I would have an adult as a child right now. I was so looking forward to this time in your life: your senior year, homecoming, prom, and planning your grad party. We should've already taken your senior pictures. Yet, now we have family pictures in two weeks... Is it even family pictures anymore if you're not there? I keep bargaining with God, wondering what I could've done differently to keep you here. You really were my soulmate, Samson. You were the one God gave me to show me that there actually is love in this world. You showed me what love was. You showed me what family was. You showed me what joy, kindness, and an endless amount I don't even know the word for… Other than that, you were perfect and amazing. My life will never be the same. I'll miss you as long as I have air in my lungs.