Linda Reavy, Bryan’s mom
(Used with Linda’s permission)I used this phrase yesterday with a dear friend. This is how I’ve felt from the first day. I had so much pain and rage inside, but nothing was coming out, only tears. I couldn’t find a way to let my sorrow escape, nothing I could say or yell could ever satiate the constant need to release my pain. Grief is like that waiter in the restaurant that’s constantly refilling your cup. Just when you think you’re done for the day, it fills right back up. You’re not seeking that refill, but grief finds you because that’s how sneaky she is.
I know reading this blog is not for everyone. It’s raw, unfiltered and gives a voice to my heart. Certainly if you’re looking for a feel good ending, I don’t foresee that. This is a day to day experience. As far as I can tell, if the past is an indicator, I’m just trying to survive in the healthiest way possible. You need to learn a whole new skill set in this grief business, it demands it.
My greatest hope from all this? That it sheds light onto this experience that the ones from the outside can learn about. That they can see that grief seeps into every crevice of our life. There isn’t an escape, it can be merciless. But having said that, I try to find hope and strengthen myself for this road I am on. It’s exhausting and it knocks you on your ass more times than you know. And when I let myself embrace my need to bawl my eyes out, I brace myself for the rest of the day. Time will never make this pain less palpable, less raw, less numbing. The only thing she does is give us the time to master the skills we need, turns us into the warriors us mamas eventually become. I hope to always make you proud my sweet Bryan.
Until I hold you in my arms again, my beautiful boy, Mama sits and waits her turn….here I am…here I am….
