I am so deeply saddened this day- for reasons I simply don't understand. I want to hold my tiny child. I want to kiss his sweet face and stare into his perfect green eyes. I want to hear his laugh and feel the softness of his little hands. This yearning is so consuming and so terribly inadequate for an aching heart.
The countdown starts today... one month until what would have been my David's 4th birthday. The thought of his birth reduces me to tears. I can feel the emotion swell behind my eyes like a million forceful rivers pushing against the dam. The very thought that I cannot hold him shakes me to my core. It crushes my weakened spirit that all my efforts to remember him will not produce anything to pacify my tattered heart or appease my desperate need to be close to him today.
The numbing pursuit of any emotion other than loss, always, always comes up short. I am always left unsatisfied. It leaves me alone to scrutinize over the painful details of his death. I have no release. This, the aftermath, forbids me to remember our happy moments and robs me of the six months that he brought so many treasures and so much fulfillment to my existence. Nothing helps to satisfy my unrealistic need to separate loss from love- this juncture can not be undone and I long to embrace the joys of his brief life, so taken for granted.
I need peace, I crave something- anything peaceful.
I now know that I am bound eternally by this imperious pain to remain broken, to walk this unending road, to accept this trial. I must submit to my journey- as pieces of something once whole- I submit. I am not allowed options. I can choose only to sweep up the fragments of the person I was and carry them with me on my path...so I shall.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
How do I know though? HOW do I KNOW?
Sang and I went to David's grave this past weekend on our way out to dinner. It was simply awful. awful. awful. I've lost my faith that all this mindless motion that I create can keep me distracted, can keep me busy.
I feel more insane this week than I did the week David died. I never questioned the "process" before. I hated it but I never had the whole "how can I change this?" feelings. Now I hate the process and I don't care to even entertain the idea that it's going to produce any other result than my son being dead. I am here, right here at disbelief and denial- isn't that step 1 in the process?
How I have come here? Where did my progress go? Who can help me?
I stood there, in the rain, and instead of seeing a headstone and thinking about my beautiful greed-eyed boy- I thought about a box holding baby bones. My child is a box of baby bones and I don't want it to be that way. I cried and I didn't care that I was losing control. It was all slipping away from me, my sanity and my composure.
I asked Sang 'how do you know? How do you know that he's there? I don't feel him!" and Sang just listened, I think perhaps unsure of how I landed myself back here at what appears to be 'square one'. But seriously now... How do we know? I used to go there and put flowers and feel him there watching me and now I am scared to think about my son being there in a cemetery in a box, in the earth. The images are unthinkable and I am broken all over again.
There is of course a horrible feeling of grief and guilt that accompany any thought of him, my tiny child. I don't want to be here in this thinking! I want to be on my way back to a shadow of who I used to be. I want to be happy when I think of my son, I want to be whole. My little baby is gone and I am broken... the only difference between now and three years ago is that I don't feel I have the right to just break down and give up- I feel like the show must go on and I will just have to keep praying for some peace.
I feel more insane this week than I did the week David died. I never questioned the "process" before. I hated it but I never had the whole "how can I change this?" feelings. Now I hate the process and I don't care to even entertain the idea that it's going to produce any other result than my son being dead. I am here, right here at disbelief and denial- isn't that step 1 in the process?
How I have come here? Where did my progress go? Who can help me?
I stood there, in the rain, and instead of seeing a headstone and thinking about my beautiful greed-eyed boy- I thought about a box holding baby bones. My child is a box of baby bones and I don't want it to be that way. I cried and I didn't care that I was losing control. It was all slipping away from me, my sanity and my composure.
I asked Sang 'how do you know? How do you know that he's there? I don't feel him!" and Sang just listened, I think perhaps unsure of how I landed myself back here at what appears to be 'square one'. But seriously now... How do we know? I used to go there and put flowers and feel him there watching me and now I am scared to think about my son being there in a cemetery in a box, in the earth. The images are unthinkable and I am broken all over again.
There is of course a horrible feeling of grief and guilt that accompany any thought of him, my tiny child. I don't want to be here in this thinking! I want to be on my way back to a shadow of who I used to be. I want to be happy when I think of my son, I want to be whole. My little baby is gone and I am broken... the only difference between now and three years ago is that I don't feel I have the right to just break down and give up- I feel like the show must go on and I will just have to keep praying for some peace.
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