Sometimes I need to cry. Sometimes I'm suddenly overcome and tears start pouring from my eyes, stinging them, stuffing up my nose, unexpected and not actually welcome. At these times I moan her name out loud, omigawd I miss you so much.
I was warned about this, more than 21 years ago. For all of these years, these inexpressibly painful feelings strike when they choose, without warning. In my mind it always sends me back to the first time I learned she'd been killed. Like there's someone standing at my shoulder saying, "Bekah's dead," and I can't believe it.
I can't believe it. Years beyond all those other phases, bargaining, acceptance, anger, guilt, whatever they are. The slow unraveling of a state of shock so profound it takes months and years to subside.
Brian Sicknick's mother precipitated this grief spasm. There are times when I truly wish I did not have to be a part of this sisterhood of bereaved mothers! But at the same time I wish I was next to her so I could hug her. In my opinion there is no getting around the fact that people who have not lost a child don't "get" the profundity of that loss. But the bereaved mothers, they get it. Sometimes almost all you have to cling to is knowing that there is somebody who understands you right now, when the people who know and love you best just do not have a clue.
Anyhow. After over 21 years I can still be left in a puddle. I will blow my nose, wash my face, and carry on as best I can. Hugs to all and any suffering from the loss of a most loved one.
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