I have been fairly open with my own journey through this darkness. Although in all honesty, I haven't even allowed myself to go to that lonely, painful place for more then seconds at a time. It is too hard, too sad, too dark, too empty....too much. I have tried to help my kids as much as I can. But even with me, they wear their masks. I suppose I wear it with them as well. Perhaps we're all too afraid to show each other how we really feel? Afraid we will bring each other into that place where none of us are ready to go? Little by little they share their tears...I share mine. In watching my kids move forward so bravely, yet suffer so silently, I am learning that we have to go to that place we are so afraid of. Even if it's a little bit at a time. We have no choice...the masks are beginning to tear as the reality of what is takes over.
Loss of focus, loss of dreams, loss of passions, loss of closeness with people...anger, sadness, physical illnesses, constant fear with every breath taken. This is what has become of my children. These are my children...and I love them. I sadly know the greatest pain a mother could endure is the loss of her child. I believe the second is to watch her children suffer. I know my own mom has carried that pain as she witnessed my heart break, and I am witnessing that very pain in my own children. At times it feels overwhelming, yet somehow I find the strength to be there for, and with them. I ask God to help me....and I keep trying.
They have all had their worlds turned upside down. They have had their very hearts broken apart. Their dreams of the future ripped into a million pieces. They have tried to move on, and have done so as well as could be expected. They have shown great courage, strength, and grace. But they are wounded, traumatized, and forever changed. Like myself, they are NOT the same people they were before they lost their brother. Over the past few months, as their masks have worn thin, I have seen glimpses of the deep pain they carry still....confusion of not knowing how to get through the next day, sometimes not even caring if they do, the painful reality that their brother is really gone, the longing for what could have been and should have been, the anger of it all...which no doubt is in reality the uspeakable sadness they carry, the constant fear of dying...or losing me, which mainfests itself relentlessly, and the need to talk about the pain, yet fear of going into that darkness.
My children are in pain....anyone close enough to them sees what they try so hard not to show. Those are the friends I am so grateful they have. I will continue to do all I can to help them, but I know I can not make it better. That is hard, but it is the truth. They are all so very close, and one of them now is missing. They all feel the loss with great intensity and sadness. I just pray God holds them all, while He leads me. The Pain of My Children...it's unimaginable.
