Only those that have experienced this can truly understand and even then it seems we all grieve differently.  I was definitely surprised with my reactions and my feelings.  Nothing in this life ever prepared me for this or has been this devastating.

I have written a lot since his death, but could not share it.  My raving and crying out as to why would be to someone else very confusing.  My writings to him were private at the time.  I collected so many poems on saying goodbye and on death hoping I would find something that would bring me comfort.

Now, after five months without getting that comfort I have decided that it is probably going to take much longer than I hoped.  Some days are bearable and some days are horrific.  On the bad days I actually would welcome death myself to escape this indescribable pain.  It can happen at any moment (unexpected), any place, and seems to come from somewhere so deep inside that all you can do is let out a guttural sound.  Those are the days when I feel I can’t go on, but somehow I do.

My faith continued but not with the same confidence I always had.  Too many questions that weren’t being answered started leading to doubt.  I was just numb.  The Lord has endured while I have tried to persevere and deep inside I know that someday my whole trust will be there again.  God is patient and I must also be patient.

Anger has also played a big part during this time.  If I am truthful with myself, I can’t think of anyone I have not felt some anger toward.  Including myself and my son.  With some there is justification for the anger, but the others just get it because of my empty feeling, my loneliness, thinking that no one really cares, my self pity.  Yes, I pity myself as I would pity someone else in turmoil, except that I pity myself more because I’m the one living it.  I do not enjoy it.  I dislike feeling this way.  I have never been one to feel as though I deserve anything more than anyone else or more than I have, and I have always tried to be thankful for what I have and not want for more.  Material things come and go.  Some times we lose something, but can get it or something better back at a later time. 

This time I will never be able to get it back.  This was my baby.  I can never feel his hugs or hug him again.  I will never hear him complain or tell me funny, boring, or ridiculous things again.  I will never see him smile, laugh or be angry.  I will never complain about the mess he made or for not cleaning up his room and bathroom.  All those wasted times complaining when I could have been saying, “love you”.  These are the hardest things to think about.  The ’never’.  Never again.  It drives me crazy because deep inside I still expect to see him.  

And what about his daughter that was barely 21 months.  That is like another whole chapter.  How do you explain to a little one that can’t talk or understand what has happened.  How she must miss him and how confused she must be.  How do you comfort her when she’s missing her Daddy?  The look of sadness and confusion in her face breaks your heart, but because of her age she will probably heal before the rest of us.  That is a blessing I look forward to.

Each one of us that had a close relationship with him are dealing with this in our own ways and at times each of us shares and cries.  Too bad we didn’t let him know just how much he meant to each of us.  I think it’s just the way we become with our loved ones.  We always think they know.  Only his daughter, in her innocence, showed him pure and uninhibited love. 

I think we have all learned something from this.