I won’t lie, today’s been tough. Maybe it’s a rainy Monday thing. Been a long time since I actually felt the physical pain, the heartache that grief sometimes brings, but today, while grocery shopping, I felt is down to the very marrow of my bones. Deep, penetrating, and merciless.
Death is a funny thing. For some, it’s an angel of mercy. For others, it’s a cruel and selfish monster who plunges a dagger into the hearts of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, and lovers, then twists it over and over again until a piece of their heart is carved away forever. Night before last, I had a dream that Death came to visit me, dagger in hand. I can’t really recall the visage, just that the image was dark and menacing and that I knew it was He who ripped my boy from my arms. In the dream, I stood up in my bed, filled with an anger so great, I felt like I might explode. I shook my fist in his face and said, “What more can you do to me? You’re an impotent fucker now, because your dagger is no more than a flimsy paper sword. You’ve taken away my child and broken my heart, so I have nothing else left for you to wound. You’re a powerless asshole, now, aren’t you!? Ha!”
Sigh. On another note, I would like you all to watch this touching video blog member, Dan, sent me. It reignited my hope. As I watched, my right leg tingled intensely, and I heard Erik’s voice in my head say, “That lady’s a tough ol’ bird like you, Mom.” Got me to thinking we should invite her to join our commune. Iola, that means we’ll have to order an extra cabana boy. Thank you, Dan, for sharing this lovely, inspiring video. Enjoy, everyone.
