Happy birthday, Jason

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“And can it be that in a world so full and busy the loss of one creature makes a void so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of eternity can fill it up!”– Charles Dickens (1812-1870)

July can be a tough month for me. I turn the calendar page and the marking of one more of Jason’s birthdays without him stares me in squarely in the face. For varying reasons, this July has had some additional very difficult, emotional challenges for me, which has made it a very difficult month. My emotions have been much closer to the surface than they normally would be. Jason would have been 35 years old today, and I can’t seem to quit crying this morning. That “deep, dark, hidden lake of grief inside of me” is not so hidden today.

I will always be so thankful Jason was born into our family. I celebrate his birthday today and rejoice that he is our son. I will always love him from the depths of my heart. I will always miss him beyond what words can every convey.

Happy birthday, my precious boy. I love you. I wish you were here. I miss you.

My precious Mr. Jay

Jason David Carney 7/29/82 – 3/3/02

© 2017 Rebecca R. Carney

This entry was posted in Death of a child, Grief, Jason David Carney and tagged , , by Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective. Bookmark the permalink.

About Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective

My name is Becky Carney. My husband, Joe, and I have been married for 42 years. We have two living children, Eric (39) and Jenna (34). We lost a baby in utero at 19 weeks in 1987. In 2002, our middle son, Jason (19), and his best friend, Alina (20), were broadsided by a drunk driver who was going at least twice the speed limit. They both died instantly. This blog is written from my perspective as a bereaved parent. I don't claim to know what it's like to walk in anyone else's shoes. Each situation is different; each person is different. Everyone handles grief differently. But if I can create any degree of understanding of what it's like to be a parent who has lost a child, then I have succeeded in my reason for writing this blog.

8 thoughts on “Happy birthday, Jason

  1. Jason sounds like a wonderful person. I’m sorry his life was cut short. I’m only 14 months in to this awful grief journey, but I’m sending a huge hug because there really aren’t words.

  2. Sending so much love your way on this emotional milestone 💓💓💓
    (I shared before that I’m estranged from my oldest, Isiah. He turns 22 one month from today, August 29th).
    I am so sorry Jason isn’t here physically with you – I hope you feel his spirit surrounding you & bringing some comfort to your hurting heart.

  3. Becky, I feel like your “two cents” are priceless. You’ve summed it all up with your writing. You have such a talent for getting to the heart of the matter.
    The preachy words of Max Lucado lack heart and compassion. Thank you again for writing about grief in such a thoughtful and honest way. Your words will help so many people!

  4. Thank you Rebecca for signing up to follow my blog.

    I am preparing myself to write a post for our son’s upcoming birthday, August 21 born 1981.

    He will have been gone for 21 years this coming November. His birthday, always a day to remember, to hold in those times of shared bonding, to be near to him again, and to view all the seasons we were able to proudly call him our son.

    Death of a child results in experiencing many levels of grief. Grief evolves as time progresses in this place of finding our ‘new normal’, one where our loved one is eternally absent in their physical form, but always present in our thoughts, minds and hearts.

    I have found, Grief has its own rhythm, where the emotional cycle of loss ebbs and flows as an ocean, the depth of agony often unable to be expressed in those times when birthdays come, holidays arrive, and our child is no longer a part of these celebrations.

    Yet, as we know all too well, life goes on, it does not stop nor cease its activity, nor do we.

    The truth in loss known in those early days following our son’s death, it was in a sorrowed pained heartache that felt like crushing pain in the middle of my chest as if breath was taken from the core of my world, gripping and terrorizing my souls.

    I will be reflecting on what to write as Lucas’ birthday approaches and how to express what life is like in this path of ongoing loss from the unexpected death of our dear son.

    Thank you for sharing in an open vulnerability and in a realistic way, what it is like to live in the aftermath of a child’s death. I appreciate your honesty, but also the reality in which you write in truth.

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