“When we’d finally laid down that tombstone and spread her ashes into the dirt, I hadn’t spread them all. I’d kept a few of the largest chunks in my hand. I’d stood for a long while, not ready to release them to the earth. I didn’t release them. I never ever would.
I put her burnt bones into my mouth and swallowed them whole.”
Does it every go away?
No. I don’t think it does. Not for me it hasn’t. It’s gone on 11 years.
It changes though.
How?
I don’t know. The weight of it, I guess. At some point it becomes bearable.. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under.and carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you even forget it for a while. But then you reach in for what ever reason and…there it is. “Oh, right. That.” Which can be awful. But not all the time..
It kinda…not that you like it, exactly. But it’s what you’ve got instead of your son.. So you carry it around. It doesn’t go away. Which is fine, actually.
Dabda
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
Acceptance