We meet again, July. You son of a whore.

Something in my body knows when this month is in the bullpen.  It knows that the air is about to change, that something is awry, and that July is getting ready to make an appearance.  But it doesn't just make an appearance; rather it comes in and sucks all that was good and lovely and takes all the air with it. 

Nine years.  How has it been nine years?  Certain memories never leave you, and never fade.  It was 7:00 in the morning and I was pregnant with Devin.  The phone ringing woke me up, and I remember thinking that was a good thing because I was about to wet the bed.  I thought it was odd for the phone to ring so early, and I was just about to go to the bathroom when Cody walked in and sat down on the bed.  I'll never forget his face.  I just looked at him and began to tremble and asked him, "What happened?"

"Your dad called.  Joseph was killed in a car accident very early this morning."

 I just shook my head.  "No. No." And then everything inside of me broke in half and my heart was being ripped from my chest and I got up and ran to vomit.  I sat on the bathroom floor and started shaking and coughing and sputtering, and I kept saying, "No," over and over again to myself.  And then, the trauma hit and I started having painful contractions, even though I was only six months along.

I called my doctor and he wanted to see me in L&D and I remember walking in and seeing him and dissolving in a puddle of tears.  He hugged me as I cried, and I was again thankful that my doc wasn't just my doc, but a good friend.  I laid on the bed while they monitored and listened, and I heard that little woosh woosh woosh of Devin's rapidly beating heart, and I wondered how I could be having a baby, a perfectly healthy and alive baby, when my little brother was dead.

This.  Is. Not. Happening.

I laid there and saw our life together flash before my eyes.  He was just a little younger than me, and it was hard to reach into my mental scrapbook and find a single memory growing up that did not include him.  How would I do this?  How would I live on this earth without my Bofie?  My heart was breaking beneath my ribs.

And somehow, my family has continued to live and thrive without Joseph here, although the pain is great, and never is it absent.  Any time we're all together, we talk about him and laugh and sometimes cry, too.  All we want is our complete set back.  In 2012, he would have turned thirty, and we had a mini party for him with the seven of us.  Garrett was mesmerized by the balloons that we attached notes to and released. 

Never in a million years did I think fate would rear her ugly bitch face again, exactly five Julys after Joseph died.  It was another July when our little guy drowned and died, and the cruelty of it is unfathomable and knocks the air out of my lungs at times.  Five Julys later, I laid on another hospital bed as I snuggle my dying child, and I looked at my mom and said, "I can't have a Devin without a Garrett."

She looked at me and stroked the hair off my forehead and cried. "I know.  And I didn't think I could have a Philip without a Joseph."

And so, today I cried.  I stayed in bed and cried until 11:20 a.m. after being plagued with nightmares.  As it is with every July, I'll be in hiding more or less.  You won't see me.  This is the time when I let myself be as broken as necessary, and I do what I have to do to survive.  I will keep my head down and pummel through, and hopefully make it to August.  Today I did a bunch of laundry and washed and folded some of the theatre costumes used in this summer's performance of "Mary Poppins."  Ethan and I went to the gym, and I cycled and ran and lifted weights and thought the whole time that life is tough, but so am I.  

I gave Angus his summer haircut this evening and he hated it, but hated it more when I bathed him right after.  Now he's snuggled in beside me, and looking at him right now, I'm so grateful to him and the love he gives me when I need it most.  The wonderfully mysterious thing about him is he always knows which one of us needs succoring.  Which one of us isn't doing well.  Which one of us needs a little more TLC.  Tonight he's snuggle in bed with me, and I love him for his perfect and unconditional heart.