Today I’m just sad. My heart hurts and my eyes are burning.
My grief was a raw wound – too raw to cover up and it had to just sit for a while. To breathe, exposed to all, to be painful, to leak and ooze.
As time passed and life moved on a protective layer could be applied, a type of bandage. No longer obvious and not as painful as the rawness eased, never quite healing with the wound remaining.
Grief is a wound that is unfixable – never healing properly often with bumps or creases – reminding us of where the wounds are, where the skin didn’t attach or adhere back as smooth as before.
Almost as if the wound refuses to repair itself as it should, a constant reminder of past memories. When the weather is cold scars ache, but these old, scarred wounds ache irrespective of the weather but at erratic times when least expected, or at other times right on cue.
The rawness of my grief has subsided as life has carried me along. But the bandage remains fitting softly over me, flapping gently against me on the breeze, falling tightly around me in a storm and occasionally lifting off in tempestuous moments exposing the wound beneath.
Today is one of those tempestuous days. In truth there are many days that this bandage lifts and almost leaves. Most days I reach out quickly and smooth it down before exposing myself too easily.
As Aidan’s birthday approached my insides hurt, a nausea settled in and my scars ached.
Today I will just sit and gently touch my wounds, and feel the scars, letting memories settle around me, surrounded by those that love me and who loved Aidan, and I will just hurt.
Tomorrow, I will hide them again.
Happy 39th birthday my amazing boy XOX
Love the mother.
