How do you put the two together? Joy and grief? How?
Grief often feels like it is swallowing me whole.
I've talked about the physical feelings of it. It often feels like I am drowning.
I miss my son so much.
Yet....
He's not my only child. I have four other children who do bring me joy.
I smiled today as I watched the youngest run down the hall nearly naked because she needed to reach the bathroom. Seeing her chubby little legs moving like that brings me joy.
My eight year old son is still so young and sweet and innocent. His voice still has that childish quality that makes me melt inside when he says I Love You. He brings me joy when he snuggles next to me on the sofa.
Then there's the eleven-year old daughter who loves to be helpful. And you can tell just how much she still needs her momma and daddy. Her smile brings me joy.
Of course, there is sometimes discord between the thirteen year old son and myself, but I love him. He is fun to sit and talk to as he grows up. He still likes to snuggle in next to me on the couch. He brings me joy.
But I am sad. I have a hard time rectifying the two.
I do put myself in the here and now most of the time. Then I feel guilty because sometimes I push Nolan's image out of my head. I am sad when I look at him. I miss him, I want to look at him.
It's not easy.
And it's not right.
A mother should not bury her child ever. The child should bury the mother. When they are both old!
Thirteen years was not enough time with my son.
No comments:
Post a Comment