Struggling with Grief: The Burden of Loss and Lying Through Pain

I lied today. I was in the middle of getting my asshole waxed, and I straight up lied. This is the reality of my life. I will never stop talking about my dead child. But when you are in the middle of a Brazilian wax. The way I was today. And the waxer is getting ready to pull a strip from your asshole. And she says to you, how many kids do you have? I said, four. I will never say I have three children. I will always say four. Even though I have a dead child, he will always be my child. And then she goes on to say, how old are your kids? And I said, my twins are 21. My third boy is 17, and my daughter is eleven. In that moment, because I knew I didn’t have much time with her. I did not want to say what I usually say, which is, I have twin boys who are 21. My 17 year old should be here. He would be 17. He died. And then I have an 11 year old. That’s typically what I say. I always talk about the death of Ronan. How he died at three. If he were still here, he would be 17 today. In the moment, I did not have time to say that. I only had a few minutes left with her. And I didn’t really want to put that out in the open. Today, in the middle of Such a vulnerable state, I guess. But I still lied. And sometimes I do that. That’s my life. That’s the truth. I will never say that I only have three kids. But sometimes it comes. The lie like that. It went further. She asked where my twins are, what schools they’re at. Where my 17 year old is, what school is he going to. She then asked what my 17 year old wants to do with his life. I just said he doesn’t know yet. I wanted to say he just wanted to live to be seventeen. So I lied today. And I’m sure it won’t be the last time that happens. And I’m not okay.