Grief is a funny thing. One minute, you're actively avoiding the candy aisle at the grocery store because it's Easter season and your son shares a name with a very popular candy brand. The next minute, you notice an empty Reese's cup wrapper on the kitchen counter and you smile, because this means one of you has made it past one Reese sized hurdle and is moving forward.
Ross's favorite candy is Reese's in any form. Every holiday for as long as I can remember, I've always picked up themed Reese's for him. When we decided we were going to name our son Reese, I had visions of a Reese's Pieces/candy themed baby shower. We called Bub our little Reese's Pieces Peanut Butter Cup, and when he was in NICU, he was a Reese's Miniature Peanut Butter Cup. Once our Reese died, I didn't even think about the candy to be honest. It wasn't until we were in a Kroger a week later and I almost had a panic attack when I saw the massive Reese's display for Easter that I realized how hard going to the store was going to be for the foreseeable future. It also doesn't help that in our Kroger, the candy aisle and special event section is right next to the baby goods aisle. It also dawned on me at that moment that Ross might not be able to enjoy his candy pleasure anymore. That was confirmed one day when I asked him if he wanted any candy and he replied "No. I'm not ready".
I feel like this year more than ever, Reese's has gone HARD with their advertising. The "Reese's University" ads are all over March Madness games, which Ross watches religiously. The displays are bigger than ever at grocery stores, reminding me that I would have not been able to use the old "if it doesn't have your name on it, it's not yours" rule that my parents always used with me growing up; Reese's name would have been everywhere, so I would have had to think of something else. The constant reminder of our son's name is all over the place, just like it would have been even if I were still pregnant. Except if I were still pregnant, and I saw a Reese's advertisement, I'd smile because I'd think of the little peanut butter cup inside of me. Instead I think about what was suppose to have been and then I think about how much Ross loved that candy, and I'm sad for him.
The other day, when we were back in the grocery store and once again not able to avoid the display because it's right next to the self check out, I noticed that my favorite candy Sweettarts were right next to the display. I had a SERIOUS craving for them while pregnant and probably ate two rolls a week but hadn't had any since; I simply couldn't bring myself to eat any. However on this particular day, my craving for something that was both sweet and tart tasting overtook any sadness I had, and I bought a roll. Without even thinking twice. In fact, I didn't even think about how it was my only candy of choice for 23 amazing weeks until I had finished the last piece. Instead of being sad, I was happy. Happy that I made it past this one small hurdle. Happy that I was able to possibly enjoy something once again without a feeling of regret or despair. I immediately wondered when or if Ross would ever let himself enjoy a Reese's Pieces again.
Fast forward to yesterday. I was in the kitchen and I saw something orange in the corner of my eye. A shade of orange that's exclusive to one thing and one thing only. It was a Reese's Easter Egg Cup wrapper. There's only one person in this house that eats chocolate, which meant one thing and one thing only. Ross was able to indulge the same way I was able to the week before, except this just felt so much more meaningful. Now I'm not saying he's going to be able to eat his favorite candy everyday from here on out without getting sad. What I am saying is that he was able to move past the grief and the sadness for a few minutes, and buy his favorite candy that undoubtedly reminded him of his son, and enjoy that candy. That's progress.
What I'm realizing throughout the healing and grief process is that we need to take the small victories in any form we can have them, whether it's being able to eat your favorite candy that shares a name with your late son or have a coke float again even though the last time you had one was the night before you gave birth. It could be finally being able to wear the same polo you wore the night you had to say goodbye to your son and not be overcome with emotions or being happy you fit into your pre-pregnancy jeans without feeling sad that you should still be pregnant. Any victory is a victory no matter the size. Once we learn to accept them and meet them in whatever way they come, we can move forward an inch or two more.
I'm happy Ross is able to enjoy his favorite candy. It means once again, I can spoil him with little delicious treats every once in awhile. And everyone deserves a quick smile now and then. That being said, Gracie will be able to jump up to countertops fairly soon so if we could keep the Reese's chocolate out of her reach, that would be great.
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