My son, Gabriel Anton, is dead.
Most days I can function in this world in spite of the pain of his loss. But there are days when I just don't give a damn.
It's been hard few days. First Mrs. Spit and I attended the local memorial to infant loss. As I held her hand while I lit the candle in memory of Gabriel, I was sad. When I listened to people talking about the loss of their children, I was sad.
Last night, when we sat in our baby loss support group, I was saddened on multiple occasions after comments and stories told by members of the group.
Tonight I sit in a hotel room away from my best friend, my confidante, my cheerleader, my supporter, my wife. I read her blog tonight, and it left me sitting in a strange place with my eyes full of tears.
I miss my son. Gabriel went home early, and I miss him.
At the memorial service, one of the hardest parts for me was related to music. Music has long been able to elicit an emotive response from me. There are times when I am deeply touched by music. Imagine my surprise when I heard an old and familiar song for seemingly the first time, and found myself moved to tears as a result.
I heard the following lyric, and cried:
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
My dreams came true, I was going to be a father. But then the dream became a mist when Gabriel went on to meet his namesake before me.
At times, I feel that this is so poignant.
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?
My Gabriel, like a bluebird, flew beyond the rainbow to meet his maker. And thinking of this, and his loss, left me crying in a room full of strangers who have themselves lost a child.
And it sucked.