In memory of my son, because every life leaves something beautiful behind...
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The meltdown happened at about nine o'clock last night. It had been building for awhile, that uncomfortable pressure, like someone has corked a steam kettle. When the cork popped, the emotional trainwreck that followed was of epic proportion. I cried, I freaked out, I became a one woman snot factory. I scared the shit out of my husband, thank God the kids were sleeping. After it was done (about three o'clock this morning), I was spent. And embarassed, and sad. Embarassed that my husband has NEVER seen me so utterly and hopelessly fucked up, embarassed that I had actually put words to some of the things I have been thinking of lately and worried that he now thinks I'm a complete mental case. Maybe I am. How tragically sad that I have worried my husband to the point where he thinks I'm a danger to myself. How sad that there is now this wall of words between us that I can't knock down, the things that have been haunting me that I should have kept to myself. It's also pretty tragic that there is still that magnitude of sadness in my heart, the kind of sadness that just seems to cast a shadow over everything good in my life. I miss my son. I miss him to the point where I want to be with him sometimes, and that I suffer with guilt over the fact that he is alone in the ground, alone in his death. I feel like I should be with him. Shane doesn't understand my thinking at all. He said he wishes Calvin was with us, not the other way around. Of course, I do too, more than anything. I would probably give up eternity to have him back with us but I know it's not possible. The devil himself is highly unlikely to appear on my doorstep offering me a deal regardless of whether or not I would take him up on it. So there it stands, out in the open for all to see. Sometimes I would rather die than live like this. Sometimes I want nothing more than to go to the cemetery and dig up my son so that I could hold him again. It's horrifying, I know. But I'm not going to commit these unspeakable acts, it's just the way I feel sometimes. People don't get it. I don't get it. I should have tried harder to keep my feelings under wraps, to contain my sorrow. I am too emotional for that, I wear my heart on my sleeve for all to see and for that I get hurt and judged quite a bit. If I could compartmentalize my feelings for Calvin, shove them away somewhere until I could take them down and deal with them with the appropriate words and response, I would. I'm not made that way. So I continue to embarass and horrify and for that I feel utter and total regret. All I can hope for now is to move past my outburst and keep my head up and hope that I get over the feeling of being judged. If anything, judge me as someone who is very, very sad, not someone who is crazy. I can accept sad but crazy goes nowhere with me.
I have decided to write about my feelings following the death of my only son in November 2008. I'm learning that grief is a process with good days and bad, a lonely road with new beginnings and unavoidable endings. It is my hope that through writing I can come to peace with what has happened to us and our beautiful boy.