Words
I mentioned words. That's all I got from the police. Meaningless words. I got home last time after finishing my blog about my impending visit to see the mayor the next morning, to find a message on my answering machine from the mayor's office. He was called out of town and so my meeting with him was cancelled. He's a busy man and so I'll stop in or call and reschedule another appointment to speak with him about I don't know what. What is he going to do? He spoke to the police and it didn't make a bit of difference. Not that I expected him to be on my side and not that he spoke to them on my behalf. Who knows what he said after I left, or what his parting remarks were to the police. No matter what was said, I haven't heard from the police so what does that tell you.
I don't have the words. Sometimes I do, a few words anyway, but other times I can not express what's going on or what I am feeling. Actually, for someone as uncommunicative as I am , when I look back at all the blogs I have written, I guess that's not bad- for an uncommunicative person, that is. I wish I had the words. I have a story to tell. I guess that's why we read the famous authors and poets because they can express everything. Everything that we think and feel and they express it so succinctly and beautifully. Many of us don't even express our sentiments at holidays or for birthdays or anniversaries. We rely on Hallmark and American Greetings and others to say what we can't say.
The second year was really difficult as I had said. I guess because I was anticipating each and every special date , and there were a few of them. It seemed that I did feel a sense of relief that I had made it through that second year. The past few days, though, I have been taken off guard as May 7th was approaching. I wasn't thinking about it, but was feeling very blue and wondering why I was feeling so bad. The memories and anniversary dates are still there, and always will be, although pushed a little bit farther back in our subconscious as ever more new things fill our conscious day to day memories and thoughts and activities. That's good, too, and perhaps that is what gives us the respite from the raw pain we feel at first. We go on and deal with day to day living and as time goes by the pain subsides a little as we're barraged with more and more stimuli. Time doesn't heal. The wound is always there, it just doesn't hurt quite as much. Sometimes.
So, intellectually, consciously, I thought I was doing alot better until, yes, the anniversary date of Kevin's memorial service was approaching and the awareness unexpectedly surfaced into my normal routine this morning. It was a point of closure, that day, May 7th, somewhat, as I have said before. We acknowledged his death although not knowing how, when, or why.
At work the other day I said the words to someone. I was very upset about an incident that had happened at work and so blurted out that the only time I had missed work was when my son had died. That was in reference to Terry. It wasn't until later, while I was on the bus, alone, that it struck me. The words that I had said, but still do not fully comprehend. I felt a feeling of panic, inside, as I remembered saying those words. And the panic that Kevin (and Terry,too) was gone and that we celebrated Kevin's memorial service two years ago. I've said those words so many times in so many ways, "Kevin died", and yet, to this very day, I do not understand or believe it. And it seems unreal. Do we ever believe it? Do we ever truly accept it?Or is it just that the pain, and the knowledge of that person, as we no longer get to build new memories, fades and gets pushed a little bit farther and farther into our subconscious away from our everyday reality. But the memories and pain are always there and so they will always surface in one way or another, consciously or unexpectedly.
So words? Alot of words are meaningless like those of the police, others are not, and really help in the expression of grief, as the words and feelings in my blogs have helped me, with my loss of this beautiful kid, my son, Kevin, on the anniversary of his Memorial Service, May 7, 2005.
I don't have the words. Sometimes I do, a few words anyway, but other times I can not express what's going on or what I am feeling. Actually, for someone as uncommunicative as I am , when I look back at all the blogs I have written, I guess that's not bad- for an uncommunicative person, that is. I wish I had the words. I have a story to tell. I guess that's why we read the famous authors and poets because they can express everything. Everything that we think and feel and they express it so succinctly and beautifully. Many of us don't even express our sentiments at holidays or for birthdays or anniversaries. We rely on Hallmark and American Greetings and others to say what we can't say.
The second year was really difficult as I had said. I guess because I was anticipating each and every special date , and there were a few of them. It seemed that I did feel a sense of relief that I had made it through that second year. The past few days, though, I have been taken off guard as May 7th was approaching. I wasn't thinking about it, but was feeling very blue and wondering why I was feeling so bad. The memories and anniversary dates are still there, and always will be, although pushed a little bit farther back in our subconscious as ever more new things fill our conscious day to day memories and thoughts and activities. That's good, too, and perhaps that is what gives us the respite from the raw pain we feel at first. We go on and deal with day to day living and as time goes by the pain subsides a little as we're barraged with more and more stimuli. Time doesn't heal. The wound is always there, it just doesn't hurt quite as much. Sometimes.
So, intellectually, consciously, I thought I was doing alot better until, yes, the anniversary date of Kevin's memorial service was approaching and the awareness unexpectedly surfaced into my normal routine this morning. It was a point of closure, that day, May 7th, somewhat, as I have said before. We acknowledged his death although not knowing how, when, or why.
At work the other day I said the words to someone. I was very upset about an incident that had happened at work and so blurted out that the only time I had missed work was when my son had died. That was in reference to Terry. It wasn't until later, while I was on the bus, alone, that it struck me. The words that I had said, but still do not fully comprehend. I felt a feeling of panic, inside, as I remembered saying those words. And the panic that Kevin (and Terry,too) was gone and that we celebrated Kevin's memorial service two years ago. I've said those words so many times in so many ways, "Kevin died", and yet, to this very day, I do not understand or believe it. And it seems unreal. Do we ever believe it? Do we ever truly accept it?Or is it just that the pain, and the knowledge of that person, as we no longer get to build new memories, fades and gets pushed a little bit farther and farther into our subconscious away from our everyday reality. But the memories and pain are always there and so they will always surface in one way or another, consciously or unexpectedly.
So words? Alot of words are meaningless like those of the police, others are not, and really help in the expression of grief, as the words and feelings in my blogs have helped me, with my loss of this beautiful kid, my son, Kevin, on the anniversary of his Memorial Service, May 7, 2005.
posted by Patricia | 7:44 AM
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