Thank you, Elaine. I appreciate the word metamournphosis. The language of loss does need more words, even though grief feel wordless at times. Welcome to Substack.
I'm relatively new to Substack, and your story touched my heart, as I understand the pain of child loss. I loss my 33-year-old son 5 years 3 months ago, and I'm still trying to dig out of the hole.
This is true for me: "Grief is insidious, ubiquitous and sticky"!
Hi Chano. Thank you for reading my words and finding meaning. I've come to accept that as mother, the hole will always be part of us, inside and out. Our journey is to let the rays of light in, along with the occasional whispers of grace. Would love to know more about your son and his name. After talking to other bereaved moms, I have this notion that our sons are connecting us to other aching hearts from across the veil to help us find a new kind of comfort. Big Hugs.
I agree. I just started to write about my grief, my pain, and finding my new normal. So, feel free to check what I've written about Kevin, my son, so far. One of the big reasons I decided to share my broken heart is for connection and no judgment. Big hugs to you, too!
Thank you, Elaine. I appreciate the word metamournphosis. The language of loss does need more words, even though grief feel wordless at times. Welcome to Substack.
I'm relatively new to Substack, and your story touched my heart, as I understand the pain of child loss. I loss my 33-year-old son 5 years 3 months ago, and I'm still trying to dig out of the hole.
This is true for me: "Grief is insidious, ubiquitous and sticky"!
Keep writing!
Hi Chano. Thank you for reading my words and finding meaning. I've come to accept that as mother, the hole will always be part of us, inside and out. Our journey is to let the rays of light in, along with the occasional whispers of grace. Would love to know more about your son and his name. After talking to other bereaved moms, I have this notion that our sons are connecting us to other aching hearts from across the veil to help us find a new kind of comfort. Big Hugs.
I agree. I just started to write about my grief, my pain, and finding my new normal. So, feel free to check what I've written about Kevin, my son, so far. One of the big reasons I decided to share my broken heart is for connection and no judgment. Big hugs to you, too!
Please keep writing!
Thank you, Tina. I will.