Twenty three days

Twenty three days have passed since I have been able to muster the strength to write in this diary…twenty three days to regain a small sense of myself, one who is able to put pen to paper after the pain of entering 2018 without you.  those rockets sure did tear through my  very being, my very essence, tore at my sense of being human, being a mother – they shook my very soul and I don’t think that I have been the same ever since.  I was in so much pain that I now feel quite numb- as if it was simply too much to bear and now that I have healed somewhat, I want to remain pain free.  It just hurts too much.  There is only so much that the human soul can endure and survive.  Perhaps I have reached my limit.  Is there a limit?  No doubt, I am in for more,  Your birthday is coming up.  Not only do I mourn for you but I have to watch his twin sister suffer this interminable loss.  To watch her pain is lie ripping out my heart all over again.  It is hard on all his siblings but there is something excruciatingly raw about being his twin.  It is not a myth, this observation and acknowledgement of the closeness of twins.  Their bond truly was unique and so special.  There was nothing that they wouldn’t have done for each other – even though they didn’t appear so close sometimes from a superficial perspective.  Sara carries with her much guilt – guilt that she somehow failed him as a sister, that she could have done more to save him, that she could indeed, have saved him and that she should have – as if it was a conscious choice that she made not to help him out of his troubles.  And troubled, he certainly was.  It’s a weird feeling that I have today, I feel detached – surely some mode of self protection from the pain.  Oh Adam – who am I kidding?  This is awful and nothing has changed.  The picture that I have in my head of you is of you at your best.  A young handsome man.  In just  a few short days we will be celebrating your birthday without you.  Life is cruel.  Death is cruel.  Everything is cruel.  Everyone is cruel.  Except for my family.  My family is not cruel.  We love each other and I am proud of that

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *