It Hurts

It just hurts. It's a grinding, soul-crushing pain. And there is no way around it. Losing a child carves a hole that cannot be filled, and it causes a deafening silence that cannot be ignored.

I have no specific reason for this post today.  No reason, that is, that is different from how I felt yesterday or how I will feel tomorrow. I don't need one. It's a forever kind of deal. In the beginning I was screaming nearly constantly. I was clawing at my clothes and hearing a guttural cry escape from my lips without even recognizing that it was me. Now, I mostly function. But that haunted, screaming woman is still in there. And I identify more with her on most days than I do the "seemingly functioning" one. I want him back. I don't want to wait. I don't want to "be grateful for what I have". I don't want to "look forward to the day I'll see him again." No. That isn't enough. I want him here. I want him now. I want that fire in my chest to go away. I want to stop feeling guilty and alone for my reactions to "normal" life. I want to know why the hell this is my reality.

No, today is not a special day. Not a day that should hurt more than any other. Today is just one of the million I have experienced where the dizzying idea of FOREVER has the ability to knock me to my knees.

I have no pretty way to wrap this. No ribbons or bows or cute quips to close it out. All I have is raw, unforgiving pain. And the desperate need to hold a special little boy again.