Forever Yesterday

Many think we live so much in the past that we don't allow ourselves to heal. Those many have not walked this path. I pity them when they do for only then will they understand we don't live in the past, look to the future and we are very little in the present. Our definition of living has changed. We are falling down through days of sorrow, hardly putting one foot in front of the other. We don't know how to live anymore. We are the lost, the broken. Our lost love ones were our tomorrows, our forever, now they exist only in our yesterdays.

Grief has spent it's time on earth hidden away as though it were an evil relative regulated to the attic. People did not talk about it, especially the bereaved. One was and is told to be strong, keep your head up, time will heal, let it go, better place, no more pain. That's the short list of a long line of verbal responses we hear. They are all true and none of them are true. I am horrified at the thousands that have grieved alone, unable to share their sorrow because of others preconceived ideas of how one should grieve. We feel guilty that we grieve and put our masks on tighter to hide that from the world. Heaven forbid that anyone should have to bear witness to our deep hurt and pain. We know now, in our grief, that ones who do not know it cringe from the rawness, the pure emotion.

We never know when something will set us off. The past lives in ones present. I ran across a list Tim had wrote. It was a nonsense list, nothing really but it became the world to me because he wrote it. Those were his thoughts and ideas, his hand that put pen to paper. I do not live in the past, the past lives with me. I will not put my son away in the cobwebs and forget him, I couldn't do that anyway. Shame on anyone who would expect you to do that. There is no such thing as closure or healing in the way the non-grieving seem to think there is. Closure is if you could put that person away from you, forget they ever existed and wipe them from your past. Not going to happen. Healing? You don't heal from this, not in the conventional way. It is a word that does not belong with death. It isn't that we don't want to heal, but how does one get over losing their forever?

Death humbles us in a way that nothing else can. We cannot stop it, change it or control it. It leaves us helpless. It also empowers us in unexpected ways. I would rather be hell on wheels, a wicked evil person then to be empowered by the loss of my heart. I would rather stay ignorant and blissfully unaware then to carry the knowledge that I carry now. We shoulder the sorrow of the world in our hearts. We feel deeper, see clearer, and are more compassionate to those in pain. Empathy is a big part of us now. Because we know that pain. We don't want to feel anything for anyone, not really. We have enough pain without others pain too yet we are drawn to those who suffer.

Many years ago, when the Columbine School shootings happened in Colorado, I cried as I watched that horror unfold. I shared my shock with the world that such a thing could happen. I was horrified at the loss of children, so grateful that it wasn't one of mine. But still, I did not feel any of that on a deep, deep level. I was able to turn off the T.V. and get on with my life. Everyone but those who knew that pain and the ones who were now forced to live it got on with their lives. Each year, there was coverage of that carnage, to remind us of that day. There were memorials, dedications, books, etc. Each year, I felt the sadness of losing a loved one in such a way. I felt for the parents of the lost and got on with my life. I did not think too much about the parents of the boys who brought such horror down. I think of them now. No matter what your child did, they were still your child. You can't turn love off like a faucet because they made these choices. It is the past, but it is still there for those who lived it.

I do not expect to heal from the loss of my son. There will never be closure even if those involved were brought to justice, it would not be my justice. Those are just words to me that have nothing to do with Tim. He is gone. I live on memories and sorrow but each day I have to also live in the present. New memories are made whether we want them to be or not. The world continues on its path. We resent the world for a while and remember we were once a part of that. Eventually, the sharp edges of grief dull a little but it is never gone. We are horrified that this is our life now, this unimaginable pain that will last all the days of our life. The pain can change. It does not go away, but it can change. Tim will be my forever yesterday. He is not only in the past for he is here today. He was a part of my breath and still is. His name is Tim, father, son, brother, friend. My little boy, my young man, my son, my forever sorrow.