I'm not who I was before he died. I'll never be who I was before he died. Before, I lived for him, I worked for him, I cooked for him, I shopped for him, I cleaned for him, I espoused and upheld the virtues of life for him, I mentored him, I guided him, I taught him right from wrong....I did it all for him. Simple to complex, my life's center was my family, my son. We sacrificed personal things for his benefit, we focused our lives on his life, his future, his education, his happiness. We were the circle of life and love that families hope to be. Sure, little bouts of angst here and there, but mostly, we were three.
There is an equality given to an only child that may be viewed as dangerous by parenting experts. The truth is though, I've never known an only child that didn't have an exceedingly unique and strong relationship with their parents. It's as if parent and child are able to become friends yet uphold respect of the parental role and it's such a beautiful thing. But now that Wyatt is dead that center has been plucked from our circle and my purpose has been removed from life. This void has caused it to become increasingly more difficult for me to figure out who I am now in this other part of my life. It's all complicated by the fact that I still want my former life; I long for it. Before Wyatt died, I had dreams of who I may be after he grew up, but those dreams always included him...and Elizabeth and little Wyatt-Elizabeth grandchildren that I would spoil and read to and play with and take to the park and cook with and make little handmade gifts to put on the refrigerator and hang in the windows. Little Wyatt-Elizabeths whom I could love all over again, just as I loved him.
But there will never be any Wyatt-Elizabeths in my new world. Time marches on and things change. Elizabeth is growing older, she's older now than Wyatt was when he died, she's 21. The others move forward with life, as they should, but as you should does not soothe this mother's heart. It's takes a great heaping of fortitude to stand beside those you love and join in their life's celebrations; sometimes I find I can pull out the strength to be there and other times I simply can not. But what I do know is that this future is slowly picking away at my past; all the little bits of today are slowly chipping away at yesterday, dulling the finish and turning me into someone else. Someone else who will always have a piece of her in yesterday.
There is an equality given to an only child that may be viewed as dangerous by parenting experts. The truth is though, I've never known an only child that didn't have an exceedingly unique and strong relationship with their parents. It's as if parent and child are able to become friends yet uphold respect of the parental role and it's such a beautiful thing. But now that Wyatt is dead that center has been plucked from our circle and my purpose has been removed from life. This void has caused it to become increasingly more difficult for me to figure out who I am now in this other part of my life. It's all complicated by the fact that I still want my former life; I long for it. Before Wyatt died, I had dreams of who I may be after he grew up, but those dreams always included him...and Elizabeth and little Wyatt-Elizabeth grandchildren that I would spoil and read to and play with and take to the park and cook with and make little handmade gifts to put on the refrigerator and hang in the windows. Little Wyatt-Elizabeths whom I could love all over again, just as I loved him.
But there will never be any Wyatt-Elizabeths in my new world. Time marches on and things change. Elizabeth is growing older, she's older now than Wyatt was when he died, she's 21. The others move forward with life, as they should, but as you should does not soothe this mother's heart. It's takes a great heaping of fortitude to stand beside those you love and join in their life's celebrations; sometimes I find I can pull out the strength to be there and other times I simply can not. But what I do know is that this future is slowly picking away at my past; all the little bits of today are slowly chipping away at yesterday, dulling the finish and turning me into someone else. Someone else who will always have a piece of her in yesterday.
2002 Holiday Concert
Comments
Post a Comment