Saturday, December 26, 2009

TIS THE SEASON


All year I cement over the cracks in my heart where it breaks. It's never whole, there's always another broken piece that needs putting back. I almost make it but along comes Christmas, the great solvent, and it disintegrates with such swiftness that the flow of sorrow overwhelms the mind. I weep and mend by leaving Christmas outside the door but this year the door wouldn't stay closed and not one person mentioned his name. Time does not heal all wounds.

13 comments:

R.H. said...

I would entrust you with anything.

Ann ODyne said...

Dear Coppy - time certainly does not heal any Mother's wounds.
The next time some idot therapist suggests
"put it behind you and move on"
I am going to punch them.
They are people with absolutely no idea what true love is and I have no pity for them.
Drinking, shopping, fluvoxetine and chocolate, can only salve away about half the pain.
The WorldWideWeb is pretty useful for distraction the rest of the time.
peace and love from Us

River said...

Don't know what to say here, you've made me cry.

Kelly & Sam Pilgrim-Byrne said...

:(

hazelblackberry said...

Best wishes. Truly.

JahTeh said...

You know you can, Robbert. Daffy is hanging beside me as I write.

Annie O, I know it is the same with you, you never put it behind you, you just tuck it in a corner where it's safe.
I thought of you last night because I was dreaming I had to get you on a train. You kept wandering off, leaving me with the bags and the tickets on the wrong platform. In the end you insisted that we only had to jump on the tracks and walk to the other side.
I think that qualifies as an obstacle dream and I'm never getting on a train with you.

River, I've done enough crying to qualify for the Australian team, now stop, you'll sog up the mince pies.

Muriels, if anything cheers me up, it's your gorgeous Miss Charlotte.

HB, the least you can do is have a monumental Christmas hangover and blog about it, someone's else's throbbing head and heaving stomach also cheers me up.

BwcaBrownie said...

OMG Vline v. Coppy and AoD, all happenin at SoCROSS Stn.

mind boggles.

Elisabeth said...

Reading through the comments, now I understand better - all this grief. How do we bear it, if we can't share it.

He is/was a beautiful boy/man. And Christmas must of course bring back memories.

At least here you/we can speak about it.

A friend of mine who died too young, too young by far, at 55, from an unexpected, uninvited anaerobic bug that invaded her system, used to say, 'silence is the greatest crime'.

I agree with her, hence my passion for blogging.

My best wishes to you.

Jayne said...

(((hugs)))

JahTeh said...

Right back at you Jayne and I hope your Dad enjoyed his day.

Elisabeth, I think that's why we all blog, well this bunch does. We all have problems and it's good to put it out there and feel that we're not really bothering anyone.
They can read then tiptoe away.

Bwca, not a happy Brownie since it wasn't Southern Cross but some overgrown grassy country station where the jump to the track was about 6 feet.

Andrew said...

It is only since myself and my partner have connected with our newest niece that I have ever thought what it might be like to loose a child. I just cannot imagine.

I read your post yesterday but comments seemed to be off. You are lucky to have so many who love you.

JahTeh said...

Andrew, I think I missed him more this year than any other but it's probably because I wasn't allowed to lock the door and pretend Christmas hadn't arrived. It's stay away from Christmas carols and on no account watch that damn "Little Drummer Boy". I have to be carried out in a bucket by the time that finishes.

Middle Child said...

He has such lovely eyes...I believe that those we love as you do your son...are aware of our love and somehow help us. What I do at certain times is to get a big A4 photo of Don out and putting it smack bang in the middle of the coffee table so people have to see him...I want to talk about him...tell stories...

I am so sorry...don't know what else to say. Don's death was hard enough and I pray I am never called upon to deal with the death of my children...It is the fear of every good mother.