not perfect, not imperfect, but somewhere in-between: My pain, my loss...

not perfect, not imperfect, but somewhere in-between: My pain, my loss...:   Since the death of my son, I’ve felt detached with the exception of a few moments. It is my way of dealing with my grief. It is deeply tro...

My pain, my loss...

 

Since the death of my son, I’ve felt detached with the exception of a few moments. It is my way of dealing with my grief. It is deeply troubling. Almost always unbearably painful. Oftentimes people say, “Well, it’s a nice day. Let’s get on with it.” Is this the way to behave or to let myself drown in the pain, embarrassed that I have let myself go too far?

My son’s death has somehow separated me from the outside world. I’ve become more introverted. I did not, I do not, know how I can describe this loss in words. So often I don’t. I made a promise to myself that I would never forget him. I just made a promise.  I largely live my life secretly, for both of us.