Months and months ago..probably shortly after Michael died, our counsellor said to us that one day we would find that we hadn't cried that day. Then it might be that we hadn't cried for a couple of days. I didn't believe her. But then one day it happened. I realized that I hadn't cried the day before and I felt terrible, wondering how I could have not shed a tear for Michael, for our family, for myself. Let me say here that because there are moments, days even, when I don't cry, does not mean that there are moments or days when Michael isn't in my thoughts. It's difficult to explain, but if you can imagine viewing everything through a sheer curtain, that's what life is like now. I view everything through a curtain of memories of Michael.
This morning though is a morning of tears. Michael's candle is burning and our digital picture of frame of pictures of Michael is on and I look at those pictures and am still struck by the unreality of this. This cannot be. He can't be gone. Not forever!? Am I waiting for him to come back? Waiting for him to say God gave him another chance to come back if he wanted to, and he did want to? I would still make that bargain with my God. I will go and Michael can just come back to those who love and need him.
For now I will go outside and work on the little area I have as Michael's garden. His angel fell and it's leg broke off the other day. I had a moment of panic and then realized that there is something very special about broken angels so Michael's broken angel is sitting amidst the primulas with his leg propped up beside him. I love it.
2 comments:
Michael's broken angel seems somehow appropriate.
Thanks for visiting my blog. I've read through a few of the blogs on Michelle's list, including yours - but I don't remember if I commented or not. Your blog makes me sad because when I try to imagine my 11-year old son as an adult, suicide never enters the picture. I'm sure it didn't for you either. I hope that you are gaining comfort from writing it out. Writing is often the way I work things out myself. So keep doing it!
Beautifully written Andrea. Just lovely, that line... 'broken angels'... I pictured Michael's garden in my mind.
I too, would never ever recover (nor would I want to, truthfully) if one of my children were gone.
Not in a million years.
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