Six Years - The Crater of Your Absence

It is hard to understand how six years have passed since you left this physical world my dear sweet son.

You are so missed and so loved.  It is not hard to understand how the loss of such a vibrant and beautiful young man has sent us all reeling.

Your death was like a meteor striking the earth's surface.  I was stunned and in shock.  I was blinded by the light, the force and the scorching heat of such a devastating loss.

Your death left a crater in my soul and I am still trying to figure out what to do.
How does one understand the emptiness left behind?
How do I explain the hole that I can never fill?
The crater of this loss can never be filled.
Ah, there is the crux of it....so what do I do with this scorched and scarred place in my spirit?

What can I build there?  What life will it support?  How do I make something grow there?
Who wants to sit in this place with me?
Who can help me find a way over, around, or through?

Sometimes the task is daunting...on days like today, I only want to curl up in a ball and cry.  It seems the bleak and dreary grip of sorrow and grief is unrelenting.  It is way stronger than me.  It seems I cannot win.  I am trying to find my way.  The process is slow and seemingly impossible.  The steps forward in my search for new life, joy, happiness, peace, seem so small as to be imperceptible to the naked eye.

And yet, every now and then something propels me forward, the kindness of strangers, the love of your beautiful sister and your Dad, the comfort of friends, and the understanding of those who walk the edges of this crater with me....these things continue to push me along in my grief journey.

My therapist says I am strong...some days I don't feel strong.  I feel weak and tired and afraid.  I want to give up, but I know you wouldn't approve of that, so for you and for Sara, I plod onward.  I am running out of lifelines Nick.  Please come home, I love you more than a wagon full of puppies.  I wish I could see you and hug you and hear your voice and your laughter.  I don't write on here much anymore, because I feel there is nothing new to say.  I love you my sweet boy.

“In some aspects losing a child is like a wall, but instead of getting over it, you must carry the wall with you, wherever you go, for as long as you live.

The wall is immovable.
You can’t go anywhere until you learn to move the wall.
You are just stuck in the same place, forever.
You can tug and tug all you want, there are days that the wall will not move.

And there are days that it moves ever so slightly.

Over time I have realized that in order to move forward, knowing that I must bring this wall with me, that the best way to do so is to metaphorically flood the soil near the wall with water, and have the wall float with me, instead of me having to carry it.

Every act of love and kindness turns to water.
Water and love can penetrate and move anything.
It just takes time. 

I need to turn my wall into a raft.”      ~ John A. Passaro, Again