I sit with my back resting against the rough bark of the willow tree - weeping. As the branches fall toward the earth so do my tears. A dove high in the tree coos it's mournful song and my heart mourns in return.
In the beginning my heart, mind, and soul only mourned for the loss of my son. He was the heartbeat of my existence. For days, weeks, months, a year and more my thoughts have been only of him and what was taken from me to the exclusion of everything else. (Of course, if one of my other four children had gone before me, I would have said the same about them. They are each different and I have a different relationship with each. But one thing is the same. I love each of them with all my heart and they are all equally important in their own unique way.) But now I want to be set free from all of this sadness. I want to stretch my wings and fly. I want to soar into the sky and leave this heavy burden behind.
I don't want to forget my son or my love for him - never that - but I do want to cast off these oppressive feelings that wrap around me like some alien strangling vine. Squeezing the life out of me. This isn't natural. Children do not die before their parents. My son should not have died in my lifetime. He should still be alive. Alive and happy and successful. This is all wrong. So contrary to the forces of nature.
You should be here to bury me. I would be old and it would be the way things are intended to be. The natural course of events. You would be sad when thinking about me but you would go on with your life because that is how it is suppose to be. On Mother's Day you might shed a tear for me but is it fair that I break down and lay in my bed depressed on that same day because you are no longer here and my heart is broken? There I have said it. It is not fair. I have struggled to not say anything negative about the way you died or when you died but now I have said the words. It is not fair. Somehow I thought it might be liberating to say them; but it isn't. In fact it just makes me very sad.
I know that you were hurting. I know that life did not always treat you fairly. I understand that you were living a life of depression and quiet desperation. I even understand the feeling of being unable to cope and the desire to escape. And I know what it feels like to be a mother that loves her child desperately and the feeling of helplessness and uselessness because I couldn't find a way to help you. And from this understanding comes the chains that bind me to this earth and to this pain.
Hidden inside me is a woman struggling against herself to be set free. But my love for you cannot be abandoned. I must remain earth bound so I can make sure that no one ever forgets you. I must be here to honor your memory and to keep your memory alive. No, not just your memory but to keep you alive by telling your story. Not the sad, unhappy one but the one where you were so full of life. So full of love. So full of goodness and tenderness and kindness. To keep your laughter alive and your smile and your sense of humor.
To remind your sons of what a great man you were. To tell them how much you loved them. If I am not here, who will do this. I am your mother and it is my job and I will do it willingly and lovingly. This is not a burden. You are not a burden. You were an awesome son and we loved each other so much.
Dry your eyes you silly woman. Get up, hold your head high and be thankful for all you now have and for all you have had in days past and for all you will have in the future. You are blessed. You can relive the joy of past memories and create new memories to serve you well in your old age. Life is good. You have beautiful children, a loving husband, amazing grandchildren, an incredible mother, great siblings, and the best of friends and extended family. You live in a home that you love in a place of breathtaking beauty. Yes, life is good. Very good. And you were part of that goodness. You complimented my life. I love you so much and I am so thankful that you were my darling son. "Oh yes sweet darling. So glad you are a child of mine."
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