Sunday, April 17, 2005

Losing your son isn't funny... why am I laughing?

Okay, obviously I'm not laughing at that, but I AM laughing -- at my beloved, at funny stuff on TV, at the book I'm currently reading -- at all kinds of things. The thing of it is, I'm laughing but all the while I'm wondering how I can possibly find anything funny when my little boy is gone.

Sometimes I'll find myself laughing that gut-busting kind of laugh that makes you feel so incredibly good, only to have it replaced by crushing guilt when I remember that it hasn't even been six weeks. How can I betray my son by laughing -- by moving on?

I asked my beloved if he feels the same guilt. He looked confused, and then said no. He has come to terms with what I'm still stuggling with. He knows that we have no choice BUT to go on -- that Thomas would want us to go on. He knows that to stay mired in the unbearable grief we felt as we held our dying son is a waste of our lives. He knows that we have a lifetime to go, a lifetime that may very well be filled with happiness as incredible as this current sadness is horrible, and to squander the opportunity to be happy just doesn't make sense.

He's right. Of course he's right. So why do I still feel guilty when I laugh?

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