22 months....
Twenty-two months of not hearing your voice - not touching your hands - not seeing your face. How can it possibly be that long and still feel like yesterday? Grief changes the perception of time. Time makes no sense now - I have no idea what will happen if I live many more years. I just cannot imagine living for years without you.
We sent up balloons tonight - as we do every month on the 7th. Always, I ask for more signs - for answers. Always, I wait for you to let me know. What do I do without you, Tash? It's been twenty-two months and I still don't know how to live without you. I spent twenty-seven years being your mom - and I have no idea how to live the next twenty-seven years without being your mom.
I just don't understand how this can be my life -
"I just don't understand how this can be my life-" That thought constantly runs through my mind. It never makes any sense. We are almost 18 months into this horrible nightmare, just a few months behind you. It's still a shock, some days the realization literally takes my breath away.
ReplyDeleteI too am am 22 months into this new chapt. of my life. The one where it turns into a horror story. Sometimes I feel like I died with my son but then the pain reminds all too loud and clear that I'm still here and he's moved on. I want to scream NO! NO! NO! HE CAN'T BE GONE!!!!!!! And I get so angry at how the rest of the world goes on like he was never here or never died so I just try to keep to myself unless I'm talking to someone else who I know understands. I can't even say I wish I was with my son around others or they take it as a suicide threat (not that I haven't thought about it but) wanting to be with my son does not mean I'm going to kill myself...wish my life won't be a long one? perhaps Wish as a post I've seen says "I wish heaven had visiting hours"? Definitely I'm just so tired. How can this be real?
ReplyDeleteI don't know if you remember me, it's been so long since we spoke--But I am still so sorry for your loss. I loved our talks when I went to DHS. Email me if you ever want to talk!
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