This may sound crazy, but it has only been in the last month that my heart has finally understood that Noah isn’t coming back. For over a year, I held onto hope that maybe he would still walk through the door. I know now, that is not happening. Death is permanent.
This new view has made me spiral out of control. I’m digging myself deeper and deeper into a pit and as I look around, I feel not many people are willing (or available) to pull me out.
Grief is an awful process. It makes you doubt every single aspect of your life. I have retreated into myself to take inventory of my relationships. As I’ve reflected over the past couple months, I realized my grief journey has shifted immensely. So, I wrote this letter to a world who has moved on and left me behind.
Do you still see me? Do you still see this mother and her empty arms? Do you hear my screams and my painful cries? The permanence of my child being gone has only hit me now. And here I am, alone.
I am on a merry-go-round. It’s spinning fast. I am alone on this ride. No one is stopping it. No one is jumping on it with it me. I am alone.
Do you still remember my child? Do you remember how he was my sun, my moon, and all my stars? And now my world is dark.
You say you see me, but your actions tell another story. I am still here. Still grieving.
A Grieving Mother
You may look and judge my grief. I know I will lose relationships along the way. But my child was so loved and I will grieve him for the rest of my life, Noah deserves nothing less.