In a recent conversation a few weeks back I was told "I did not want to talk about him to you, I did not want to MAKE you sad."
Well when Phillip first passed away, I read some articles about grief and such, this was one of the things they tell you to get ready for; People not wanting to talk about your child, THINKING they are sparing you grief (HUH that's funny), AND to be ready for people (not close to you) to stop talking about the person and slowly forgetting about the pain. I know to some this makes NO sense to you at all, but its a world I live in that most of you do not know (it is explained well here )So with that said, my world is hard and is about to go through another HARDEST part of the year... While everyone around is welcoming Fall, then Winter months, I have to "put on" my happy face and feel my pain stronger all over again! Starting in September and it lasts all the way until January, to much to explain, I'm not always speaking about this openly, but for now this is what I want to do...... So that's it, bare with me!!:)
Go ahead and mention my child,
the one that DIED, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry,
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing
the tears that I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent,
pretending he didn't exist.
Id rather you mention my child,
knowing that he has been missed.
You ask me how I'm doing.
I say, "Pretty good", or "Fine",
But healing is something ONGOING....
I feel it will take a lifetime.
The Child's First Grief
"Oh, call my brother back to me,
I cannot play alone;
The summer comes with flower and bee,
Where is my brother gone?
The flowers run wild, the flowers we loved
Around our meadow and trees;
Our bush is drooping with its load,
Oh, call him back to me"!
"He wouldn't hear thy voice, dear child,
He cannot come to thee .
His face that once like summer smiled
On earth no more you ll see.
A roses brief bright life of cheer,
Such unto him is given.
Go, thou must play alone, my dear,
Thy brother is in heaven."
"But he has left his birds and flowers,
And must I call in vain?
And through the long, long, summer hours,
Will he not come again?
And by the brook, and in the glade,
Are all our wanderings o'er?
Oh, while my brother with me played
Would I have loved him more!"
Felicia D. Hemens
(change sister to brother)