What A Ridiculous Thought I Would Never See You Again
What a ridiculous thought I would never see you again! It sounds so impossible… the idea doesn’t seem to have a head or a tail. To think I would never see you again, I would never hug you again. What about the ringtone I set for you on my phone? I guess I could never smell you again or experience how you put things in order in a way that only you understood. And to think that your melody would never get a smile on my face again.
My hands tremble, my knees tremble, my heart teases quietly. The ground becomes slippery, the air cloudy, the lungs feel empty. I no longer feel the air that feels like I have torn the seams of my shirt. My words get stuffy in my throat. I can’t scream, I can’t run away. I just stay there. Just like the rest of the world, frozen.
I spin in grief
I close my eyes and the first memory begins to hurt my mind. I sweep it anxiously away with my hand. Anxious, I have to create more. I hang in on the need a person left on a rock experiences, and only I know it. The thought of waking up, a dream I happened to hit without meaning, comes to mind. I imagine in my head taking a step and falling.
The tremors continue and the weight begins to accumulate on my shoulders. The straps start to tighten and so do my muscles. My knees are starting to cheat under me, and before I even notice, I’m already on the ground. Slowly I let my head fall and wait for the pain to strike me. Let it come, do it already. Take me with you, destroy me. What a ridiculous thought I would never see you again.
My palms shorten and slowly my nails begin to dig into the sand moistened with rain. The sand begins to be absorbed by rystycin. My elbows bend to the ground and touch the ground. My fists close and water flows through my fingers. Once again, my eyes open and see the darkness I have formed in my body. The darkness within which I am locked in that ridiculous thought that I would never see you again.
Anna is approaching. I notice his steps. I want him to leave and move my body even further. Tightly, I close my eyes, for now my tears are wetting the earth. Somewhere in my head, it manifests: get out, get out of here. It comes from something very far away, for Anna can’t hear it. He hugs me, tightly, as hard as a five-year-old can by any means.
It’s ridiculous to think I would never see him again
The need to protect our daughter runs counter to the idea that I would never see you again. Eventually, I surrender myself to his embrace. The power of his hug weakens. I let myself fall to one side and he falls over me. I let go of the idea of never seeing you again. Now I hug him with the power that years with you gave me. At the same time, the pain starts to be so great that my brain starts to fight back and makes me numb.
It’s morphine that goes straight to my throat. I notice it because it strangles me and doesn’t let me breathe.
She is a living picture of her mother. I am happy for him because he still has faith. Fortunately, the thought makes him even more ridiculous than I am. There he is, challenging the future with no sense of future grief. I grab his ignorance for a moment and give the lie to make the air lighter.
When I get up, I know that ridiculous thought will keep us together. A bond from a bond that crosses genes. I get up, pick him up in my arms, and walk slowly. The first steps on a long road that I can barely comprehend yet. Part of me is still waiting for the pain to arrive. The salty face is just part of the legacy he has left me.
I put him at the other end of the bed and hold out the pillow. She welcomes her mother’s touch. I look at him and sing a lullaby that still feels so distant to me. But I think he’s listening because he’s holding my hand and shaking the wrinkles on his face before falling asleep.
A child’s grief needs understanding
