It's been a little while since I had to fight back tears in public, but it happened again today. I was at Mass and my friend, who I haven't seen since long before Thomas was born, and her family slipped into the pew in front of me. I love this friend - I've known her for years and years and we always laugh our heads off when we're together.
She has a Thomas of her own. Hers is four and the image of his father, just like my Thomas was. I didn't think it would bother me to see them but, like so many things that have surprised me since March 9th, it did.
I hate that it did, but it did.
I watched her little Tommas snuggle up to his father and I saw his father tuck him protectively into his side, and I felt my heart break for the millionth time. I felt literally empty for the few minutes I allowed myself to think about the fact that no matter how much we might want it, or pray for it, we'll never have our Thomas to snuggle with. And then I locked the vault and carried on.
I chatted with them after Mass and we made vague plans to get together for coffee one morning since she's only working part time now. I hope the plans don't stay vague though - I hope she wasn't just saying it to make me feel better. I would really love to get together with her and laugh our heads off one morning. And soon.
I hope she didn't see the sorrow in my eyes, and I hope if she did that it didn't frighten her too much. I hope I haven't scared away my old friend.
2 comments:
I never knew if it was my reckoning or whether I actually did scare people away in my sorrow, but it's awful that we have to worry about that on top of everything else. ((hugs))
It is awful to worry about losing people who can't handle our grief (or their own fear) but it happens, doesn't it? But if this woman chatted with you maybe things are okay between you. Call her up in a few days and find out!
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