My emotions are all over the place.
Tears and the need to be alone in the midst
of a full house don't mix well.
I pull my jacket on and feel myself
walking to meet my son who is not
with me here.
He's not where I'm walking either
but somehow meeting him where
I left him last is a comfort.
As I walk I remember the painful days that
we endured almost a year ago.
My heart remembers it all
and I cry tears so big that
I wonder if perhaps they could
fill an ocean.
The pain, the rawness of losing
someone who was meant to be here is never
far from me.
My walk stops me at his feet
and I gently open the jar that
I have hidden there for the past year.
I slowly unscrew the top
of a years worth of emotions bottled up
in that jar. My personal record of
how I trusted and doubted at times.
I read the letters that I wrote to him
a week after his death
a month after
ten weeks after
and they go on and on..
I have to read every one aloud
to him as I sit in the cold beneath the
biggest tree on the property in the quietness
that drew me here.
Tears stained the writing in some places and my
thoughts that are written so immensely private
that sharing them out loud makes
me look around to make sure I'm alone.
The words are painful but healing.
The words are the truths that
I kept from everyone about how
I felt about losing William.
The words explain how I died
along with him in someways.
How I shall never heal completely until
I hark heaven's door.
My voice out of habit said "I trust you Lord."
The trees have heard me say that thousands
of times. "I trust you Lord" was said over and over
in the first days.
I wrote another letter and as I wrote it
the cold breeze sent the trees swaying
like they were dancing around me and I sang
"Blessed be the name of the Lord.."
as I walked back to the fullness
of my house.. where the Lord
is teaching me to live