I missed my boy so much last night.
Every once in a while I'll let myself really think about it, and it's terrifying. The depth of my sorrow is just terrifying to me. I can go along for weeks - never forgetting of course, but managing like a normal person - and then one day it all collapses in on me and I'm so struck by the enormity of it all I can barely function.
I guess it's self preservation. I can shut it down and proceed normally for only so long. Then I need to really touch base with the pain, let it wash over me and soak it up before I can dry off and carry on again.
I suppose this is healthy. I dunno. But it's worked for all this time so I'm just going to assume it's healthy for me. If it ain't broke, right?
I'm not entirely sure why today was the day the roof caved in. I guess it was just time. A very minor disagreement with My Beloved ended with me sobbing quietly in the office while he slept last night. And, just to be clear, It wasn't a cry-worthy disagreement. And quite aside from that, I was the one who was wrong. But I ended up sobbing just the same, and missing Thomas so much I thought my heart would break.
When I'm upset, it all ends up coming back to Thomas, and whatever tears I'm crying end up being tears for him. There is, after all, a pretty enormous pool of sorrow to draw from.
Every once in a while I wonder what that sorrow will feel like in 10 years, or 20 years or when I'm 75. I wonder how it will manifest itself in my daily life then - when Thomas has been gone for 40 years.
God, that's such a long time to miss someone, isn't it?
And there's that feeling of terror again...
I'm just going to remember that tomorrow I'll probably wake up feeling like myself, having thoroughly doused myself in all of this today, and I'll carry on like I have for the last 16 months. Because what other choice do I have, right?
I can only keep walking.
9 comments:
(((Hugs)))
i kept thinking it would get easier, but it never does. it's different, but not easier. the woman with whom my mother-in-law banks told her the other day that she lost a child 30 years ago, and she broke down there in the bank. i don't think it ever ends, we just learn how to live with it, if we're lucky.
I am sending you huge hugs and when you get a chance and feel like seeing something that Zach said about T & R, come over to my blog and feel our hugs through the photos.
God ... the words in your entry hit me like a truck.
Just last week I discovered this new fear, and I wish it hadn't let my mind go wandering there. You're right though: 40 years is a long time to miss someone you love so dearly, and I wish so terribly much that you didn't have to think about things like that. (((HUGS)))
Yeah, that's pretty much how it is for me too. The length of time between breakdowns gets longer, but i don't think they ever go away. And, i suppose, that is how it should be.
You know, after Nicolas died i wondered how i could make it one whole year, or two, or five. Yet really we have no choice, as you said. And the years pass....
I am sorry you had to cry again. I hope that the tears eventually stop and the memories remain, without the pain. I truly don't know if that is possible but if my wishes have power then that is how it will work for you.
Know that many around the world are sending you hugs, here is a big one from Wisconsin.
I'm so sorry Kristin. I've been thinking a lot about this--what it will be like to be a very old lady and still miss my boy, too. It practically sends me into a panic attack. I just don't know if I can take another 50 years of this hurt. I hate this so much for all of us. ((hugs))
Amazing. I was having a rough night.... a disagreement w/a loved one that, like you, left me in tears and missing my little boy ever so much. So I went and posted on my blog, then thought I would read some posts from others. So I came to read yours and couldn't believe some of the things we wrote that were so similar. I had even written a line about every tear I cry being for Levi....... then I read your blog and you wrote about all your tears are for your Thomas. Perhaps our precious boys are playing together while their mommies are crying together.
((((((HUGS))))))
Post a Comment