Friday, March 9, 2012

Grief


On March 2nd, I woke to the sound of rain.  It had been twenty-three years since my son’s death.  Even the skies wept for this beautiful man who had died ten days before his 36th birthday.
            I knew I was okay, fine really, as reconciled to his suicide as I’ll probably ever get.  But I wished he could visit—just a touch, a hug, a few words, so little to ask. I miss him. I wept with the rain as my heart remembered its wounding.
            Another anniversary but I must live my life fully. He’d want it that way. So I went about my day, finding others to love and care for, giving a touch, a hug, a few intimate words.  So little and yet so much. It rained all day.
           



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5 comments:

  1. AnonymousMarch 13, 2012 at 4:08 PM

    Hi Ruth,
    Thoughts, prayers and heart are with you. I think Bill knows we love him.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ruth H. MaxwellMarch 21, 2012 at 1:45 PM

      Thanks, Michael. Your kind thoughts mean a lot to me.

      Delete
  2. Sheryl BullockMarch 16, 2012 at 11:17 AM

    I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you Grammy. I hope to meet him someday. hugs!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ruth H. MaxwellMarch 21, 2012 at 1:46 PM

      Thanks for the kind words and the hugs. I need all I can get.

      Delete
  3. Ruth H. MaxwellMarch 21, 2012 at 1:46 PM

    Thanks, Jenn. I appreciate your kind thoughts.

    ReplyDelete

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