“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
– Rumi
Just recently I told the lady who used to be my domestic worker that my Stevie had died five years ago.
She works at the Spar Supermarket now and she didn’t know.
In that moment it hit me really hard, a sudden wave of grief nearly buried me under the floor boards.
It was as though he had only died yesterday. She was surprised and sad and very apologetic.
It brought up her own mother’s death and how hard it was not having her around. It also made me think of how complicated grief can be, because we all mourn in our own way. We as humans need to be respectful of each other’s sorrow and not pressure anyone into “just getting over it”!
I said to her that it’s okay, and that I’m alright, but truthfully, I’m not okay, it’s horrible and devastating and world shattering. It was as though I was trying with sheer willpower to make it all better, and pretend myself into being healed.
Our hearts lay shattered for a moment on that supermarket floor, but we didn’t shed a single tear, even though I wanted to wail and I’m sure she did too. It was actually a very holy moment, where our two hearts were united in grief, as though heaven opened up and surrounded us.
She had known Stevie, she had been in my house, and she only had kind words to say about him, saying that he was always friendly and polite to her, a pleasure to be around. I knew he was like that; he would sit with our gardener at lunch time and chat to him like they were best friends.
I didn’t just lose my son I lost an exceptional human being who was kind and smart and beloved by many. People who knew him always had good things to say about him.
It’s still hard for me to tell some people that he died, I can’t really reason why that is, but it’s something really deep, a knowing. It’s taken me a good 5 years just to be able to say that he died, as if saying it would suddenly make it real.
At times grief is so unexpected, it ambushes me. I observe the world around me just carrying on unintentionally oblivious of my pain, while I stand in a void of emptiness. There are so many triggers, some I don’t even know about, they sneak up on me and catch me unawares, some I am cognizant of and I prepare myself for them. I have had to be really gentle with myself and step ever so lightly into certain situations. There are some places I still won’t go though.
I’ve made a concerted effort to heal, to be able to find joy in the ruins, I do this to honor my Stevie, I know he would want me to. After all, I know where he is and I know what he’s doing, even if I can’t touch him or hold his hand in the physical, he is still present in my life.
The wound will never fully heal, I’ve come to accept that. When I’m around certain people and certain scenarios it hurts like crazy. I’m truly glad when people are told before-hand that he has died and I don’t have to break the news to them myself. It’s as though an angel goes before me to prepare the way.
Both this wonderful lady and I walked away that day united by the shock and horror of death, but with the knowledge that our loved ones are all around us, like guiding lights in a sometimes-dark world!
AllysoAlly 