There’s a small lake in my community that nobody visits. When times get to be to much I drive my car down there and scream. I scream out my pain, fear, loneliness, and anger.
Listening to myself as I scream I’m reminded of an animal howling in pain as it dies. It is a guttural, primal, almost an inhuman sound. I can feel every raw emotion riding the sound waves, like an exorcism. I feel free and I feel heard.
My son almost died last week. I have been unable to process my emotions until today. The storm is passing over us now and all we can do is rebuild.
My neighbors continue walking their dogs, kids still ride their bike down the street, and the birds continue to chirp. I caught myself staring at some women chatting and laughing while checking the mail and I wanted to shake them, wanted to scream at them to stop it. Didn’t they know my heart was broken and my child was in pain? Didn’t they know my world was crumbling at the images I saw every time I closed my eyes?
I can’t eat, when I do I get sick. I can’t sleep with the images taped to the back of my eye lids. But the world carries on, I should too. I should be braver than this, stronger. Shock carried me through the incident and week long hospitalization; the storm is over now but the winds in my soul have just begun to howl.
What is it inside of me that won’t allow defeat? I want nothing more than to curl up and hide my soul in a bunker. How many storms can one person withstand without being demolished?
I put on a brave face for the kids but there are times it hits me like a wrecking ball and I choke up. The last time durning dinner and I had no way of hiding the tears breaking out of their cage, the napkin gave me away.
I have come to realize all that I am has been invested in the boys.
The hospital Chaplin asked me, point blank, ” who are YOU? ”
The only response I could think of was “I am their mother”
He continued to say, “no, you are also YOU; a mother AND a separate, unique individual. Again, who are YOU?”
At this point I began to cry. I am nothing without my kids. My world, life, and soul are centered around them. They are the heart of me. I responded as such to the Chaplin and he just nodded, hugged me, and moved on to the next group of grieving souls.
I am so scared. So, so scared. We came so close to loosing him that I can’t let him out of my sight. At 13 he gets pretty annoyed with me asking him how he feels every 30 seconds so I back off until I can’t stand it anymore and I’ll check on him by peeking around the corner.
There comes a point in a persons life where their heart can not take anymore pain. Riding waves is physically demanding and I need off the board. I want to float, not fight the waves anymore, just let them carry me anywhere they see fit. But as they carry me I want to rest my aching bones allowing the weariness to dissipate into the dark depths of the ocean. An ocean can heal you and feed you, or it can kill. I’m ready to float.