Not empty, just broken.

Grief has set in. God has kept me pretty busy thus far but it is time for me to mourn. With life settling down (somewhat) I have found I have more time to think. I have great days and I have horrible days. I have days where I meet the new day with a smile and fabulous outlook. I have days where I don’t want to get out of bed. I am beginning to feel a bit bi-polar 🙂 One of the stranger things I have experienced is a lack of words. Generally when I have this enormous emotion I get it all out through writing. Yet whenever I sit down to write words escape me. Tears escape me. I feel frustration that I can not get it all out the way I am accustomed. I feel frustration that even when I am able to let some of it out it is never enough. It feels better for the moment and then its back, the hole is back. I cant call it an empty feeling. I have much to make me full of life. I call it broken. My heart grew to make room for my son. He took part of that with him. unfortunately it left an empty pain. I fear that my relationships are being impacted. I hate that my husband randomly finds me crying in recent days. I hate that sometimes I don’t want to get out of bed and enjoy my daughters smiles and laughter. I hate that she is growing so fast. I feel as if I am losing her too. I hate that when I look at one of my best friends I fear that I will be a “downer” during a joyous time in their lives. I hate that I fear I will be a constant reminder of loss to some, so much so that they wont want me around. I hate my bad moods. I hate grief. I am so happy for my son and the joy he is continually experiencing. Why can’t that be enough? 

I have this longing to go back. I want to go back to the room he entered the world in, lay on the same bed, with the same blankets and just be. I long to be where I was the closest to him last and I don’t understand it. I know it will never be the same.