There is one thing that annoys me
way down deep inside.
That is when I hear the words,
“You need to get over it.”
How can I get over our dead son?
There is nothing I can do to bring him back to life.
There is no way I can undo his death. My son’s body is gone. We spread his
ashes in the ocean. There is no getting over it.
People who are not in grief,
who do
not have dead children,
need to understand
parents grieve for their dead
children
FOREVER.
And forever is a very long time.
When you see me cry, don’t say to me,
“It’s been 25 years since your son died. You need to get over it.” Saying that
is cruel. Grief sucks! It hurts. Grief can sneak up and take a burning bite out
of my heart without provocation, without warning. I have no control over when or
how it shows up.
October is the cruelest month of
the year. That is the month in which our son died. That is when grief parks his
car in front of our house for a whole month, sometimes longer. I never know
when he is going to get out of his car, knock me down and whisper in my ear, “Your
son is dead.” But I know that he will and he’ll do it
often. The bastard is doing it to me right now as I write this. He is also
reminding me that October is only two weeks away. Grief is mean. Death sucks!
Don’t be cruel by telling me
I’ve
been grieving too long.
My son’s death has been too long.
The day he died was
the longest day
of my life.
His absence is too long,
not my missing him,
not my
grief.
When you see me cry, cry with me. When
you see me turn down my “happy” glow, sit with me quietly in my darkness. But
please don’t tell me to get over it. I can’t.
