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Listen to the Memories

There is no depth to sorrow, only a free fall into a deep, dark abyss
If you are lucky, you find something to grab onto on your way down
Faith
Your remaining child
Friends
A partner
A substance
A job…anything to break the fall into the blackness, something to comfort you besides the grief.
Sorrow is deceiving, the blackness can be soft, an anesthetic from the pain
A giant Memory Foam to wallow upon until you lose all sense of self and only feel the sorrow, only relate to blackness
That’s when we realize the grieving has turned to a way of life, not a way out of the sorrow

There are always the memories…that turn dusty from age
When called forth however, the tears fall afresh, clearing away the dust where the heartache is genuine all over again.
We cling to those memories however, exposing our soul to them
Desperately trying to make them sharper around the edges, forcing them to come into focus, if only for a moment.
The memories briefly cast out the darkness, shedding light, healing the wound of losing a child.

The sorrow deepens with the awareness that our life goes on
Sometimes with meaning
Sometimes not
We walk a deeper walk
The morning has new meaning
The night holds new sorrow
The awareness of your place in the Universe becomes more acute
Your anger takes hold
Your Faith waivers
A soul sickness permeates
A thousand regrets bubble to the surface
And with each one you question whether or not you were worthy of the title ‘Mom’

And in the stillness of your heart, in the very essence of your being, the answer is ‘Yes’
The answer lies in our children’s smile, the lilt of their laughter
The honesty of their younger selves
The goodness and light
The softness of their sleep
Their unconditional love
The smell of the top of their little heads that can only be described as ‘pure’
Their innocent trust
Their childish belief that all is good in the world
Their uninhibited play
Their belief in all things magical
Their talent; both apparent and undiscovered
Their scholarly achievements
Their untainted attitude about how life actually unfolds

If we had a glimpse into the future – before children – would we have made the decision not to bear the life of another human being?
To sacrifice the joy and forsake the heartache?
For it is our children who hold the ability to wound us most ferociously

Listen to the silence
Their laughter is caught there
Feel the heartache
It lies right next to Love
Cling to the memories, dusty or otherwise
They are genuine
Climb out of the abyss and find new meaning


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