7 months

This is Jim with Son #2 when he was almost 2.  He was a fish.

So, seven months.  Seven long and yet oh, so short, months.

Sigh.

I realized something today as I was contemplating this post.  I have discovered, after 7 months, that the pain does not "get better".  It will never "get better".  

The pain will always be there, in my heart and sometimes in every part of my body.  It will not go away.  The thing that changes, though, is that I learn to live with it.  

I think it must be something akin to losing a limb.  The pain of the loss is always there.  It never goes away ..... you just learn how to live with it.

I'm sure that's how it was for Jim after he lost his eye in a gun accident (in 2001).  He learned to live without it.  Every day.  The loss was huge and something that never "got better".  He learned to adapt and live differently in some ways.  But he always missed it and never, ever "forgot" about it.  Never.  Neither did I, but now I get how deeply he felt the loss, even after 6 years.

I think it's like having a chronic pain problem.  You either learn to live with it, and live in spite of it, or you give up and become miserable -- or you REALLY give up.  Some days it's a difficult decision.

I wish that I'd been given a choice --- the choice to lose something else.  I would've gladly given up my legs, or arms, or eyes and even ears.  As long as he would still be here and I could have him.  As long as I could physically feel him and know he's there ... no matter what.

I wish I could've chosen.