My son, my son, my only beloved son...I sat outside in the darkness...listening to the sounds of the night...hearing water running in the backyard of our neighbor's fountain...seeing the stars glittering in the blackness of the night sky where no moon was visible...as considered apt for performing Shradh to honor the death of parents and relatives in the traditional Hindu religion...the death of my son....my only beloved son. No, I am not Hindu, nor was I performing Shradh...I was just outside alone in the night thinking, meditating, praying and remembering the other dark nights...the ones we spent searching for you, my son.
Yesterday, I finished reading the book "A River Runs Through It And Other Stories" by Norman Maclean. Some things reminded me of you, William, but mostly it was the river...the water...picturing in my mind the ebb and flow of the light on the water such as it was the day I went up to Devil's Falls, and it made me think of the words by Norman Maclean as he stated, "Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
I am not just haunted by the waters and the words that belong to them...but by what lay under the waters for four days waiting to be found, to be rescued...those waters certainly have words that belong only to them, though as your mum...I have a desperate need to know what your last words were as you struggled to get free...those words...they are mine, they do not belong to the river...they belong to me....and they will haunt me forever.
For now...just know that I love you forever and miss you desperately, William, my only beloved son. I love you with all of my mother's heart and soul...I wish you were still with us...I'd gladly give my life, my all to have you alive...but I wasn't given the choice...so for the rest of my life....I will listen closely for the Whispers From The Water...that someday they will become clear to me.
People may wonder why I write on here to my son, or write about how I feel because of losing my son. It helps me to feel connected...and for me it works. Yesterday, I read an article on grief and to quote it said, "Only through talking out the past can the bereaved person realize the extent of the relationship with the deceased and accept the loss and suffering. Only through weeping and talking to good listeners can they release their grief and their feelings of guilt and hostility. Experts in grief therapy believe that grief can be expressed best through rites, rituals and ceremonies. The ceremony deals primarily with intellectual concepts and doesn't fully engage the bereaved's feelings in the patterns of community support which are psychologically beneficial."
ReplyDeleteI guess this is why I do what I do...it helps me on my journey "through" grief...because there is no "getting over it"
~Forever Will's Mum~
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