“Death is not the greatest loss in life.
The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live”
In the end, it’s going to be ok, if it’s not ok, it’s not the end. That’s the problem. There is no end. There is no proverbial light at the end of said tunnel. It is just a tunnel of darkness. A tunnel which feels like the inside of my head, my voice bouncing off the walls with no-where to go. The words slowly echoing into silence. And the silence, the silence is deafening.
I have never been a defeatist person, I’ve always tried to achieve goals that are perhaps slightly out of reach. A challenge. William was my biggest achievement, but he wasn’t a challenge. He taught me that in life the biggest achievement is to love and be loved. The type of love you experience only when you have a child. The bond that love creates when this tiny perfectly formed being is passed to you, your own child, your own flesh and blood, grown within your body and part of you is so magical, it eclipses any other feeling of euphoria you think you have experienced. William was a miracle, my miracle.
Every new day brings with it a different emotion. I get out of bed already angry, angry because William should be here, angry at the situation, angry because there is nothing I can do about it or feelings of guilt, gnawing away at me, why should I be here when Grumpus isn’t? Feeling totally hopeless and knowing that nothing will make me feel better, knowing that tomorrow won’t feel any different. If you asked me if I really wanted to feel differently, my answer is no. I don’t want to feel ‘better’, I want to be free. I write to purge the thoughts and feelings in my mind, but it does not free me from this fog.
William taught me love that exists without saying I love you, love that is felt not heard, love that silences any room with one glance, love that is so tangible it bought me to my knees. Then death walked right in and stole him from my arms. Grief instead brought me to my knees as I stood in front of his tiny white coffin; but love made me get back up, love forced me to stand tall, death has no place to come between me and my boy. When I carefully picked William up, sat down and cradled him in my arms, I was home, where I belonged, where William belonged. There is nothing, absolutely nothing that could possibly pierce that love, not even death.
No matter the depth of grief the love doesn’t go away, it doesn’t disappear or fade, it continues to grow, just as it would if he were in my arms. Death is not a barrier, it is an obstacle but death no longer frightens me, I do not fear it, living without William scares me. When my wings take flight, I will overcome grief, I will rise above the relentless sadness and pain, and I will be free. Free of this life without William. Free to be with my boy for eternity.