My Son

Hi Aaron,

I'm sitting here in a (mostly) empty house (the dogs are here) listening to a piece called, "When David Heard". It's about when King David heard that his son Absolom had died, but it was written for a man whose son had been killed in an auto accident.

It goes through so much of the grief process, the denial, bargaining, depression, intense sorrow, and I guess, acceptance to a degree. 

It is a father crying out for their child that isn't here anymore.

It rips at me.

Oh, my son...

Will I always feel this tearing in my soul?

I'm looking back at blog posts, trying to find information for another mom, and I can see it now so clearly. You were tired, so tired. You fought for so long. And yet, I don't think we did "to" you, really I don't. 

In fact, when I spoke with the attending who had been with us the night you left, she told me about seeing you leave the unit the previous time, just a few weeks earlier, seeing your smile, your joy. She said she would hold that image in her heart. The sight of you being happy, loving life. 

You know, I actually made it home today, even driving past your grave, without crying. But then now...

I love you, Aaron. This pain born of suffering, I know I will grow, will learn, will progress. But oh, right now, it hurts. 

“I almost didn’t cry today until the memories of you found me,
unraveling my heart again piece by piece, reminding me why I still do

…Every day"

Amelia Lynn