And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of eternity can fill it up! —CHARLES DICKENS
My head and heart are aching today. The passage of time only confirms my worst fear that the absence of Amy has left a gaping crater in my life. My thoughts keep returning to that analogy that a mother made 10 years after losing her child which I desperately want to share, but cannot locate … So I was searching for it again today when I stumbled across something I had written to my new dear friend three months after Amy died:
My identity/life has changed so much in these past three months. I used to be a mother of three living children; lived on the corner property and walked with my head up, but now I look down to avoid my neighbors pity; I worked 5 days a week, but now can barely get through 2 days and I’m so weary from dealing with the meltdown each night after I put in a full day of work; I didn’t cry multiple times a day and had no resentment towards f’d-up families who didn’t appreciate their children… yes, possibly I will survive this but never again will I be whole, at peace or really joyful. The future seems so bleak to me w/o my Amy. My dreams for retirement are shattered and seem meaningless. Sorry, … I need to go to bed and pray tomorrow will be kinder…
Pray… I do, but I am receiving no comfort. However, please God, feel free to step it up at any time as I am weary from what others assume I should be handling differently.
Maybe I have been naive but if I am being completely honest, I would confess that my former strong faith and constitution would have landed me in a much more improved place than where I am standing now.
Now I work four days a week and find that I am totally useless by the time I exit the building. Crying during my walk to the parking lot is still my norm; wanting to climb into bed the moment I enter my home and sob from the reality of living another day without Amy — check. Not knowing how to digest the coldness and thoughtlessness is weakening my faith in mankind.
Makes me pray there is a life review on the other side and that I am privy to their feeble explanation. Please don’t ride in on your white horse and then hobble off on your donkey when you tire of the saga. My husband keeps reminding me that there have been no real surprises. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part that I had more people in my life who loved us and valued Amy and her place in our life. However, never let it be said that I have no one who cares because I certainly do. They cannot fill the crater, but they certainly touch my heart and ease my loneliness. It’s a shame that we lose others after we lose our child. How unfair!
Driving to a cemetery to make sure that there is love reflected in front of that painful reality still seems surreal. Living with so many aches and pains from my shocked and stressed body accompanied by digestive issues as the acid churns 24/7 is my new normal. Wondering what the hell I ever did to deserve this still haunts me …
Sadly, the world keeps on turning without Amy and gives little thought to those who live without her. Life goes on for most — even those who cared about Amy. Expectations return and it’s back to business as usual. But not for me.
Clueless minded ones will chalk this up to depression. If only it were that simple. The indescribable grief which follows the loss of a child cuts your soul so sharply that there is no way to ever verbalize the excruciating pain which follows. Maybe I should be banished to the land of broken people.
I reject any hidden lesson I am supposed to learn as a result of losing my Amy. Give her back and find another way. And bite your tongue before you, from your safe and untouched perch, ever openly evaluate or assume otherwise.
While our loss may be easily forgettable to most, it is not to me and I am always, always remembering Amy.