Tears. They always seem to come at the most inopportune and most inconvenient moments! They come in small, tiny drops In the middle of class, at the grocery store, in Walmart, standing in the toy aisle, or in heartbreaking sobbing torrents, an uncontrolled tsunami accompanied with wailing and screams in those private moments when I know it's just me and God. I don't cry as often anymore since Ryan was transferred to Louisiana State Penitentiary where I know he is being well-treated. My level of anxiety and worry has subsided, along with my guilt. At least I know he has a real bed with springs to sleep in now, not a steel bunk bed, and that he has an extra blanket, a real pillow, sheets, and ample food. The Parish jail is a hell hole where the dog that guards the prison yard is treated better than the inmates. There I was constantly worrying someone would ambush him or injure him in a fight or some other "misfortune" might befall him.
It's amazing how I can seem to be all right, then, the simplest and most ridiculous things send me into a torrent of tears- such as a toy in the middle of the aisle at Walmart. I pressed the button on the small Toy Story Woody, and he answered with a jovial, "There's a snake in mah boot!" I pressed the button on his chest again... And he said, "Someone poi-soned the water hole!" Images of a chubby two-year old sitting in front of the TV, clutching his own Woody and wearing a brown cowboy hat swam before my eyes as the tears slid down my cheeks. I felt as if someone punched me in the stomach and my heart. For a moment I felt such an unbearable emotional pain that it hurt to breathe. Where did my little man go? Was anyone watching me? I looked around but I was still alone. Had anyone seen me crying? I hurriedly walked away, awkwardly blinking back the tears and brushing the wetness beneath my eyes.
Tears. They are so inconvenient. They show up whenever they want wherever I am regardless of what I'm doing or the company I'm in. Right now, I am quickly jotting down this blog, and my classmates are slowly wandering in to the classroom. And here I am, struggling to breathe and trying to swallow the knot in my throat, a runny nose and wiping away tell-tale tears. Will it ever get better? Will I ever stop crying at random? I am afraid the answer is no, because as memories flood over me, so do the tears.
Comments
Colette: That is EXACTLY how I feel. I know his dad loves and misses him also, but it's different with me. I gave him life; I carried him in my womb beneath my heart and suckled him at my breast. No emotional pain compares to this. Nothing.
I so know this feeling! Sitting at the desk at work, driving down the road, watching a movie... they come when a memory is sparked and the emotion rushes in behind it. It sinks in and settles like concrete around my heart. And like you I brush and blink the tears away and take the long shaky breaths until it passes.
He's my baby and there will always be this huge hole in my heart missing his presence.
Random is how it hots me now. The pain used to be constant but now I try my best to love everyday the fullest I am able that day and find joy where I can and cry when I need to. I resist guilt, envy and shame like evil devils threatening my existence. I strive for peace, support, love and joy. Many days I do just great but the journey to the hard places is never far and an easy fall. I will be so grateful when this is over, we have so very long to go. Hugs, tissues and understanding.
Thank you all for your support. It's good knowing other moms know how I feel because no one could possibly know. No one, not unless your son is swallowed up by the legal system too.