It's like a tomb in here. No, it's much more than that. The cold reaches far deeper than death could and the sad yearning blooms constantly like flowers in spring. Moving on is not something I can do. I try. I can't. Part of me wants to but I won't let myself. I won't because if I move on, I risk becoming happy. If I become happy then I risk forgetting. If I forget because I'm happy then I have lost the most precious part of me. My child.
Others say I have to move on. And they candy coat it with words like "You have to move on for his sake. What if, by some strange fate he comes back to you and you've held on to your sadness for so long that you can't be any good for him?" And for a second, my mind processes what they say and I think they are right. But they really don't understand so my mind rejects everything they say. I've heard comments like "Others have lost their children to death. At least your child is alive." And I look at them and I reply by simply saying, I wish that life would have been so kind to me to have had death take my child.
And they look at me with what seems to be complete shock and dismay and I say to them, How wonderful it is to have a child and be able to love that child and hold that child and have that child know beyond all reason that it's mother loves it. And when that child is taken by death, it goes knowing it was loved and the mother cries and grieves and tears fall and suffering sets in and though I know how painful it must be to lose a child to death, there is that one little detail she has, that I don't. That detail is the child died knowing his mother loved him and she knew when he died he loved her as well. There is a sweet finality to that and in the midst of that suffering there is at least that.
My child wakes up daily and goes to school with children whose mothers come to eat lunch with them, attends school plays, feild trips and the countless other ocassions such as making Mother's Day cards. Not to mention the children who gets picked up by their mom's. Who comes to eat lunch with my son? Who comes to his play? Who does he make his Mother's day card for? He sits and though he may look happy and not bothered, you have to know that somewhere behind his smile, he's wondering if his mommy loves him. That is a question I want so badly to answer but I can't.
Can you even know what that feels like? It's the equivilent of being chained to a chair by terrorists in the same room they have your child in while they slowly torture him and make you watch, helpless to do anything. Yet even still, in that situation, the screams and pleading for them to stop the torture would let the child know that it's mother loves him. So you see? There are worse things than death. There are worse things...
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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words of wisdom from the unknowing poets mouth. this is so amazing
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Thank you. You're very kind.
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good
Very good I liked this piece because it told a story so well and it explained the empathy very well also good write.
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Thank you very much. I appreciate your comment.
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I think he knows you love him. The memories of the time you and him spent together aren't memories easily forgotten.
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Thank you for that. I hope that you are right. It's not that I doubt you. What I fear most is he will be told lies and he'll block out things that make him forget and he'll grow to hate me and never want to see me. If that makes any sense. In my mind, it does. He was so young when it happend. When I try to remember my life at his his age, there are such large pieces missing from it. I hope I don't become a missing piece in his.
Nonetheless, I appreciate you.
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No, I know exactly what you mean, and the part that sucks is that you'll never know until you're able to see him again. Waiting for something like that is the worst thing in the world.
I appreciate you too; what're best buds for, right?
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For some strange reason, I'm not getting notified about any of my messages or replies. I'm finding things on accident.
You are my best friend. More than that I feel. My brother. I love you and you are one reason I've made it through this. I don't think you understand that. In my life, you will always be here. When I look back years from now and ask myself, or others ask me how I made it through, your name will be said over and over.
I'll be ninety years old telling my (hopefully) grandchildren how you kept me moving forward instead of giving up when I thought I had lost their father forever. That is very impacting on my heart. I love you. -
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It took me a while to respond this because, to be honest, I wasn't sure what to say. As corny as this sounds, it means so much to me that I mean so much to you. I guess I didn't realize or know how important I am to you; it's a great feeling to know I really mean something to someone.
But, don't discount your own strength; I can poke and prod and hold you up 'til I exhaust myself, but ultimately, it's you who needs to pull yourself up.
You mean a lot to me too; you're definitely my best friend, and one of the few that I can be totally honest with and actually open up to when I need to. I love you too. Thank you for, well, you.
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And it took me a bit to come up with something to say as this part "But, don't discount your own strength; I can poke and prod and hold you up 'til I exhaust myself, but ultimately, it's you who needs to pull yourself up." scares me to death and takes my breath away.
I'm not as strong as I may seem. I'm weak. There are many days I sit and cry til I fall asleep. Nights are not good for me. Everyhting reminds me of him. Even things that shouldn't. I can't go to the store because the sounds of the beeping cash registers reminds me of when I would take him to the store. It's a haunting I can't escape. There is a strand of his hair in a brush of his I keep and I sit and stare at it. I sleep with his shirt. Everywhere I go, I see him. I see him in things that I never would have guessed I would and my heart breaks and I continuously pray to a god I hope is there that he will protect him and bring him back to me. I make a point to constantly tell everyone I love him, in hopes that maybe by me saying it, Landon, will somehow hear me.
The point is, I can't do this alone. I just can't.
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My point, though, is that you continue to move forward. You don't stop. You keep going because it's your hope (and mine too) that you'll see him again. That, to me, is strength. You know you can't sit and cry all day, doing nothing else, so you don't. You carry on with life, and even though you think it's almost meaningless without him, you still choose to carry on. That's strength.
I know it's tearing at your heart, and I'll always support you. Always. I love you. I'll always help to hold you up. But in the end, you have to want to keep going, and I think you do--which is why you still *are* going, if that makes any sense.
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You make complete sense and everything you say I do, I do. HE is my one and only hope in this world. My life was so meaningless before him and became so meaningful with him. There is no way that he was an accident. There is no way that the deepest, purest love that can ever be known, that I have for this one being that is mine and makes me me can just go on without reason. I go on in hopes of him. That is the only reason.
If that makes any sense. -
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It does. And I think that reason will be fulfilled and you'll see him again.
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It sort of seems that there is nothing I can say, and certainly not do, that will make an awful lot of difference.
Only that we are thinking of you and that there is the hope things can change in the future. I hope you hold on to that.
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Thank you. I love you.
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wow! that was REALLY good. Its sad but true.
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Thank you.
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