Matt, Memorial Day weekend has come and gone. The weather mimicking my soul. The day was cold and dreary. A typical Memorial Day weekend in Delaware. My mind kept going back to happier, sunny days when I would drive to the beach to spend the weekend with you.
We always found a way to avoid the crowds as you hated when “those tourist” invaded your piece of paradise. I can still hear your voice complaining about the people and the traffic. I’d let you vent and then remind you I was one of “those tourists”.
Those bittersweet memories became a trigger. The more I remembered, the closer the grief crept in. Like one of those completely unexpected rouge waves that hits out of the blue and drops you to your knees.
The wave of grief so powerful I felt like I was choking. Like my breath had been sucked out of my lungs as I was being pulled under by its strength. The reality that we would never share another Memorial Day together, that I would never make that trip again, that I would never walk into your house to see your smiling, tan face was too much for my heart to handle.
I was shocked at how my body responded as those waves continued to wash over my soul. They call it muscle memory and my muscles were in full gear of remembrance. That familiar choking sensation returned. That feeling of hopelessness. Of dread. The pain radiating from my broken heart. I was helpless to stop the physical response to the wave of absolute sadness that enveloped my soul.
I used to try to fight my way through these tough days. I’d tell myself that I was being crazy. That my grief should have lost some of its power over the last 6 years. I try to convince myself that I should be able to handle these memories without going to pieces. That what society says about grieving is true. We should be able to wrap it up in a pretty package and place it on a shelf. That time should heal broken mothers.
The reality is that grief knows no time frame. Those waves are churning always ready to hit without warning. Grief makes no sense. It hides in our souls forever present waiting to pounce on our unsuspecting hearts.
That day, I allowed the dam to break. I let those waves wash over me as I cried my heart out. I cried for you and all you were missing in this life. I cried for me knowing that memories are all I have left of us. I cried and cried and cried until I had no more tears left to shed.
I could feel the waves subsiding. Heading back out to sea. I felt a calm returning. My breath becoming regular.
I’m learning that some days I must anchor myself letting those waves wash over my heart. I’ve learned I need to feel the pain of what will never be. After years of struggling to suppress my grief I’ve come to realize that some days I just need to cry…………