I’m tired.

All this grieving takes it out of you.  I’d expect the crying to tire you out but what I didn’t appreciate was the amount of energy it would take to get through the day and concentrate on the task of living.  I go to work and put in a full day, go for walks in the evening, clean the house, take Isla to her various activities, do her homework, read to her, play with her and do all the things I did before, but now they are just so damn tiring.  It takes a lot of concentration to focus on these things without thinking of his last words or seeing a picture in my mind of his wee teeth (he never did get his big boy teeth) and falling apart.  I can do it, most days, but it takes a lot of energy and sometimes the fragile partition that separates my realities can fracture.

This week I was having coffee with some colleagues when I decided to check Facebook while I waited for them to join me.  The first update told me that the seven year old girl from America who had been struggling with pulmonary hypertension had died just hours earlier.  It threw me.  I did manage to join the conversation and maintain my composure but it was there, lurking, waiting until I had two minutes alone to break down in selfish tears.  David thinks that I should compartmentalise these things and that perhaps the Facebook group I joined for parents of children with PH isn’t actually helping.  I think I might agree.  There is no going back for us, nothing to be learned or gained and the inevitability of the children’s fate is painful.

A friends from work has told me that you’d never know that I was so devastated and I am coping so well with everything.  I’m glad to hear that because I really don’t do well with people’s sympathy, but I hope they realise I’m not all better.  I haven’t adopted a “these things happen” attitude and I will never  be over the death of my boy.  But what good will their sympathy do me?   It’s much better if I can get through the days, paint on a smile and fake it ’till I make it.

It’s bloody tiring though.

By judesmum

One comment on “Tired

  1. Hi!
    I’ve written to you before. I don’t have any kids but I can say I can somehow, to a certain extent, “understand” how you feel, since very close friends of mine lost their son. It has really broken my heart into pieces, seeing them suffer like this. I can find no words to describe how devestated they are.
    After my friend’s death, even I am not the same anyomore. I hear about parents that loose their kids and my heart aches, even if I don’t know them in person.
    I just wanted to write to you once more, because I may not know you, but you’re in my prayers as every parent who’s lost a kid is.
    The pain may not go away, but I suppose you’ll find a way to manage it (even if that means you have to hide your tears sometimes) and live with it. It is a burdain you have to carry for the rest of your life. There are no words anyone can say to ease your pain. However, I do believe that somehow, someday, you’ll find a way to learn to live with it. The memories you have from your son will always keep you company when you feel you need it.

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