I've been struggling. Really, really struggling. Depression threatens to take over at times. Then there are glimpses of light. Hope. The realization that grief never goes away. That somehow this struggle is "normal".
So much going through my mind but no time to write. When I have time to write, I can't focus. After two years, the anger has surfaced. Lots of it. Anger that I must carry this pain. Anger that the rest of the world moves on while I carry this pain. Anger that I was robbed of my child. Anger that the one who killed my son walks free and lives. Lives. He lives while my son's ashes are divided between the cold, barren earth and the simple but beautiful box beside my bed where I sometimes touch those ashes. Anger that I am unable to some how breath life back into the dust that was once the body of my son. Anger that I can no longer hold his earthly body close in a warm embrace. Anger that the one who took his life has given life to a beautiful baby girl while my son will never be able to give me grandchildren to hold.
"Oh, that's just wrong of you to think and feel that way", I can hear so many say.
Walk in my shoes. Feel the pain. Then, tell me that this normal, natural reaction to grief is something that you can avoid. I think not. For some the anger comes early. For others it comes late. It's not the anger that is wrong. It is what I choose to do with this anger. Repressed for a while now, I feel that it is complicating my depression. So now, here on my journal where I have always been honest, I admit that I am angry.
With this, I also accept that as these feelings come, I must find ways to deal with them and to release them as I am able. Easy to say. Hard to do.
I fear it will be a long winter as I struggle with my grief.
In the midst of these thoughts, I had a message from a friend. I feel the message is inspired. She is wise. She suffers a deep loss. She struggles. She loves. She shares with me.
Here is her message to me:
Coming to a realization that we live with grief for life is a big step,
and I think it allows us to live, because as long as we think we should
be 'getting over it' we are putting pressure on ourselves. To accept that
this is now part of us, and to move on with it, to grow with it, in a way frees
us to do just that.There you go friends, family, acquaintances and world. She speaks the truth. This grief always is with us. We can't deny it. We can't walk away from it. We are forced to deal with it constantly. There are moments when the pain is a little less intense, but always it is with us like a heavy burden weighing us down.
Freedom? What is freedom when you carry a grief so great? I suppose freedom comes from accepting that the grief will always be there and the pain will never go away. Freedom comes from accepting that life will never be what you knew before. Neither will life ever give you what you once dreamed of and expected. Freedom comes from accepting that we are broken and that there is no way to fix it. Freedom comes from no longer trying to hide that brokenness but instead embracing it. Freedom comes from restraining from trying to socially put on a mask to hide the pain for fear that others wont understand. Freedom comes instead from allowing life to sort your friends out for you, knowing that the ones who really matter will still be there at the end of it all. Freedom is accepting that a part of you has already died with that child that was placed in the ground. Freedom is knowing that one day, one day you will see that child again.........hold him..................and be once again complete and alive.
Hold on heart. Hold on to that hope. Hold on to that faith.
