Living with Loss

"Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That's how the light gets in" ~ Anthem by Leonard Cohen

I've been harboring these woeful thoughts for quite a while now, pushing them to the deep and dark places of my being. I know it's not healthy, but what is a person to do? Living goes on and like it or not, I'm a part of the living. I know all the psychological precepts of how suppressing our emotions can bring disastrous consequences and for a while I somehow made myself believe that I was coping with this tragedy of ours. I know now it was false coping and how seriously dangerous that can be. Apparently, the emotions were just simmering in my gut, bubbling every now and again bringing out a little tear or short cry. I thought maybe the grieving that was so absolutely exhausting and encompassed my being with tormenting agony was over.  I could in fact go through the days and manage my self enough not to cry at the innocuous objects that frequently spark my memories to light, sting my soul, and remind me he's dead. I am pretty good at showing that facade,...

I've been to several counselors to help me through this grieving process.  While I think a couple have been pretty good and probably helped me get through some of the darkest times, there was one who simply raised the hair on my back.  After our first, and only visit,  I left her office feeling like not one person in the world understood this sorrow.  She who seemed so grounded, so peaceful, so willing to help one struggling in pain. We concluded our meeting after relaying to her the horrific story of my beautiful son's accident, hospitalization and then his death.  I shared my pain, opened my heart and prayed that she would be able to guide me to clarity, to hope, to living again.  As we concluded, with sweetness dripping from her words, she said, "we'll put the pieces back together."  At that moment, I realized she didn't have a clue; not one iota of a clue....clue-less she was, absolutely clueless .  PUT THE PIECES BACK TOGETHER!...

Yesterday, all I could feel was how weak and vulnerable I am, unable to control anything.  I could feel the riptide of sorrow trying to pull me in, take me in the undertow.  "Don't fight it if you get pulled in," I can hear my mother saying, I've heard those words a million times in my life.  Let it take you until it spits you out, but don't fight it, you can't beat it.  I liken this grieving to the world's largest undertow.  My gut reaction is to fight, to swim against it as hard and fast as I can, I don't want it to take me under, I don't want to, I want to swim away.  I want to be anywhere but here, and I certainly don't want to freely enter the fury.  But, I've no choice,  I'm in the undertow of grief, it has pulled me in, I had no choice in entering this dark and dangerous place. Today, there is peace.  I can't explain it, there was just peace.  I thanked my God today for my son.  I realized today that as hard ...

I feel like a big elephant is sitting on my chest.  I want to cry, and scream and explode in anger at this life, this world.  What makes this pain subside, What?  It will never go away as long as I breathe, but if it would just subside.  I can't get this agony to let up; I try, I work hard at it, but it rears its ugly head every time I think I'm making some progress. Right now, I don't want to function, I don't want to be human, I don't want to be productive, I don't want to do anything; I want my son, I want him here, with me, in this time and place.  I want MY son.

I live in two worlds.  This world and my other life of being Wyatt's mom.  Given a choice, I'd be in my former world.  I know in my heart that I will always be Wyatt's mom, but the reality is that he is not here.  I want him here - in this life; I don't want two lives, I want one life, with my son, my family, my future, my past, my legacy.  It's a daunting thing to know that your life ends with you - you have no future...I have no future. Being a mom is a gift that transcends the daily responsibilities, trials, and joys of parenthood. Being a mom means there is another person in this world who is forever a part of you, joined eternally. I have that connection, no one can ever separate me from the love of my son; but there is a great difference between daily sharing the love of one here and remembering the love of one past.                       ...

We took a drive to places you knew, familiar places dripping with thoughts of you.  Here, I feel your presence around me and know your love is there.