When I am with other people it is not uncommon for them to see sorrow written on my face or to notice tears pooling in my eyes. These are the surface emotions; they are easily shared with people who care. Family and friends readily engage these feelings with me.
However, it is only in solitary moments that my intense emotions flow—the emotions that sit in my gut only to erupt in solitude.
I wail. I yell…
“What happened to my boy?!!??”
“I want Jud!!!!!”
“I hate that he was here one day and then gone the next. I hate it!!!!!”
“Oh God, I miss my son!!!!!”
I fall to the floor aching in pain. I scream…
“I can’t do this anymore!!!!! I can’t live without him any longer!!!!! Enough is enough!!!!!”
“I want my boy back!!!!!”
“Is there really NOTHING I can do to be near him??!!?”
“I can’t wait a lifetime!!!!!”
I sob profusely. I shout…
“I long to have him close!!!!!”
“You have given me more than I can bear!!!!!”
“Please, please Lord, help me!!!!!”
It is in these moments I realize that this grief is mine, and mine alone. It is not anyone else’s grief. It is not Drake’s grief. It is not my parents’ grief. It is not my church’s grief. It is only Christina’s grief. It is my grief, and even though it feels isolating…
No one else can carry it. No one else can grieve for me. No one else can know my grief like I know my grief. No one else is Jud’s mom and will grieve as I grieve. No one else will feel what I feel.
I must grieve. I must let it out. I must feel the pain. I must walk this path…
Even if it makes me feel alone.