I so miss that face! I still look at his pictures and think "this cannot be real". But we recently had to move and WOW reality is really hitting me. I desperately wanted to move out of that house. While there all I could think about was that my son had laid dying just feet away from me, under the same roof while I slept (which I rarely do). How if I had done as usual he would still be here. And the picture of his lifeless body laying across the end of his bed, peaceful but lifeless none the less. I still wonder-Was he aware of what was happening? Was he scared? Did he TRY to get up and get to me? Did he TRY to call out to me? Did he suffer at all? ....and so many many more questions.
Now that I'm out of that house though I feel like reality is smacking me in the face. The fugues are back. I can't look up and in my minds eye see him walking up the stairs, or raiding the frig, or coming around the corner into my work room. His "presence" isn't in this house. Memories? Yes. But none in this house. I honestly have not hurt this badly since he passed. Our Indiana weather doesn't help. We seem to have skipped fall and went right from summer to winter. I have no outlet for my grief that works for me. I NEED to ride and can't (the cold and my body don't get along). So now I'm in a horrible flare which only compounds everything negative.
In a way I feel as if I am being forced to "move on" and I AM NOT READY TO MOVE ON. I will never be ready to move on without my son. Perhaps when/if I felt like I had accomplished something that would memorialize him. I feel as if everyone is moving on and wants me to "just leave him in the past because he's gone now". NO! He is part of me and as long as I am alive he will always be part of me and never be "in the past". He had a life ahead of him that didn't get lived out and that keeps me going...to live for him. Take that from me and I'm back to wanting to join him.
I don't think anyone but another mother who has lost her child can fully understand this need inside that I feel. We are the life givers. From the moment our children are conceived we live for them, caring for them, nurturing them, teaching, encouraging, loving, feeding, counseling, and we are suppose to protect them. So when we face the death of a child to us we have failed. You can tell us logically that we didn't all you want but to us, we did. There is nearly always something we can look back in hindsight and say "If only we had...he/she would still be here" we screwed up in the worst way a mother can. We feel like horrible mothers. Failures. So some of us, many of us, search for some way to rectify that, as if we can make it up to them. I still admittedly take issue with God because He brought Lazarus back for Mary and Martha (and because he was His good friend) but wont do the same for me. What do I need to do to be worthy? What did I do to deserve this punishment? I know I am far from perfect but who isn't? Why my son?
It's like starting the grief process all over again only now everyone is telling me I shouldn't be grieving. I really just want to disappear.
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