It has been 14 months and 20 days since my son died but it is only recently that I have realised that grief is going to be part of my life, of me, of who I am until I die.
Yes, I did read the books, listened to the stories, talked to other bereaved parents but it has only recently become obvious to me that grief is never going to leave my life and that it is here to stay.
That I will have good days always followed, as a rule, by bad, really bad days.
That I will get ill much more often than I even did before.
That my mind will never be the same; that I have become a head sieve. I forget often and I need constant reminders of appointments and meetings. Loads and loads of patience and understanding too.
That I will be sad. Often and deeply and sometimes furiously.
That anger will be my closest companion. An existential anger that cannot be directed at any-one, as the only One who could answer my questions lives in a different dimension.
That the story I so believed, that there is a God who heals and has compassion and makes sense, a god who mends our wounds is only a man-made fantasy, created to give false comfort to the ones who are too afraid to face the real story and real life.
That pain triggers are everywhere.
In a lesson plan, in a rainbow, in a splash of colour, in a smell, in a drawer, in the autumn days that my son never got to feel, in the flicker of a candle, in the innocent yet so poignant, for me, episode of curious George.
That there will never be heart healing, that there will never be complete peace, that there will never be a day while I am still here, on earth, that I will not miss my departed child.
That living with such chronic heart pain requires huge amounts of courage but never looks heroic as the battle is not against a palpable, definite enemy but it is a daily struggle of squelching through the mud of apathy and pain and despair.
That there is never, ever a break from the heartache. It is a throbbing, drilling, numbing sort of ache that has taken the rhythm of my breath and the pace of my heart and it has become part of me.
It has become ME.
I am a woman of sorrows and forever shall be…