Each Beat of Our Heart

There are reasons we are afraid to find a moment of peace. Each beat of our hearts tattoo out that they are gone. If we find a small measure of ease for a few nano seconds, when it comes back it seems to hurt one hundred times more violently then it did while it was front and center in our minds. So many small and large things make our pain double as we travel though-out our daily duties. It is not that we don't have the desire to let it go for a short time, it is that if we do, it comes back with a vengeance punching us in the heart. No, I don't think anyone wants to hold on to this undesirable pain, but at the same time we don't want to hurt more. So much out there waiting its turn to bring us to our knees.

There was a song playing in the background of a movie I was watching. It was an old song, nothing to get upset about but as it played, it took me back to a time before the pain and sorrow. Then the hurt slammed into me so hard I started crying. We face challenges like that every single day. The most innocent of moments can take us so violently into our sorrow we have no choice but to follow. It bewilders those around us because they do not have the same association to that time as we do. But it bewilders us too. We become more weary of the things around us because we don't know what will set us off. Being on high alert constantly is as exhausting as the grief itself.

Each beat of my heart calls out to my son. Each tear begs to see him again, to hear his voice and the light in his eyes. The mind wars with the heart for the mind knows the impossible and the heart says anything is possible. Were we born with duel personalities that would fight each other someday? There are times I wonder if this is my soul (sole) purpose in this life, to live this anguish every day. None of us can believe nor understand that this has happened in our little world. Even as we accept our loss we do not believe it. We don't believe our heart still beats either.

In the beginning, days and nights were all the same. Nothing made sense and it didn't matter. All that existed was sorrow so deep it was endless. My heart physically hurt every moment, each beat so painful I waited for it to stop, wanted it to stop. We become the opposite of who we were. Life once so precious becomes a burden. Love becomes pain. The world becomes alien and hostile. Suddenly, we have so many phobias that we could fill a text book with them. And people wonder what is wrong with us. I still sleep with a light on and probably will for a long time to come, if not forever. Odd things trigger that endless night. Some cannot climb out of bed, others can't bear the sight of bed. We are all the same in our pain but different in our grief. Is it any wonder we feel alone, we feel we are losing our minds, we feel helpless.

As the months pass we come to hate words like new normal, time, strong, survivor. Our love for those closest to us returns, but it is twinged with worry and fear. We are afraid of losing them too, afraid of more hurt. Some will hurt us anyway and our love for them becomes something else. We can feel guilty about that for if we really loved them, how could we stop? I think it is because we have many different levels of love. The love for your flesh is different than the love for one not of your flesh. Our hearts beat different now and it would not take much to harden that heart. If others understood this they might take better care with their words and actions at least until we have crossed a little ways beyond that raging river. While we grieve so deeply, we are responsible for our actions but our actions are unpredictable even to ourselves.

We worry that this is it. This pain is ours for the rest of our lives and we know we cannot live that way. It changes, the pain does. It does not seem like it in the months that follow but it does. It does not go away, only changes. Some may not notice the change for a long time, some do. As in everything else, it is different for everyone. Maybe that is one of the hard parts. If we all grieved or hurt the same, we would have a guideline of where to go, what was coming, how to move forward or live again. Because our hearts all beat different, there is none and we are adrift. Maybe that is where the alone feeling comes from. No one is in that boat with us. It is a place that no matter how much you share it, only you can understand it. We all understand the loss, hurt, agony. But we do not know another's depth of pain. Where some can find ease early on, others cannot and others still will never find it. We travel with a multitude even as we travel alone listening to our own heartbeat.