In memory of ...

During my morning commute, I typically listen to a local alternative radio station, mainly because I can't stand to be force-fed all of the jolly Christmas songs being played non-stop on the other mainstream stations. Sure, maybe hearing "angry" music isn't the answer, either, but it's certainly better than choking on yet another dose of "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year."

I also listen to this particular alternative station because the DJ's are usually very funny and witty - a welcomed change to the stupidity that seems to run amuck during the holidays.

This morning, though, one of them said something that floored me, because I couldn't believe anyone would not only say something so insensitive, but would use the airwaves to share such a lack of sensitivity and risk possibly offending the station's listeners.

This DJ started spouting off how stupid it is - in his opinion - to see "In Memory Of" stickers on people's vehicles. He felt it was a ridiculous way of memorializing someone and sterotyped the use of such decals to biker gangs or victims of drive-by shootings.

I think my blood pressure immediately shot into dangerous territory as I listened to this ass clown trying to defend his stance on the use of these stickers. He felt it was dumb, since what are people trying to say - that their car is the memorial to the person who has died? And, why would you want everyone in the world to sit behind you in traffic and be subjected to reading these types of decals. While I'm listening to this guy's twisted logic, I keep glancing in my rear-view mirror, looking through tear-filled eyes at my own memorial sticker to my dead newborn son.

This guy doesn't get it. He just doesn't fucking get it.

And, lucky him for not getting it, since that means he's never lost anything truly dear to him. He doesn't know how horrible it feels to lose a child. He doesn't know how unbearable the grief is at times. He doesn't know what it's like to ache for something that can never be changed.

Yes, I do want the world to know about my beautiful little boy who fought so hard to stay alive. I want the world to know that my little boy beat the odds in-utero and graced the world with his presence for two whole days. I want the world to know how important my son's life is. I want the world to know how utterly heartbroken I am that I'll never see my son grow up into a man. And I want the world to know how loved my little boy is and will always be.

And, if my need to share Ryan's existence with the world offends jerks such as this DJ, then so be it.

I'm not able to have passers-by at the mall stop and compliment me on my adorable baby or anything else that new moms hear on their day-to-day travels with their bundles of joy.

I've only got what's left in my broken heart and a head full of memories, and what's on the back windshield of my car ...