It is a very interesting thing, grief. No one can explain it to you. I have watched people go through it but I never understood it, totally. The short circuiting of the brain, the fog that settles in, the grace that gets you through it, the lingering pain that you so desperately want to end but don't want to let go of because it is all you have left.
Justin didn't live with us anymore, he lived in Vegas. I didn't see him often or regularly in the last three or four years as he went on his own journey to build a business and get his young adult life together. Holidays and weekend visits.....drive by's as he liked to call them. I live in a house filled with memories of him, a closet door that marks all his growth and a couch he would sometimes show up on unexpectedly.
What you so desperately miss in this grief journey is what could have been, what you saw for the future. Vacations together, a wedding, grandchildren, holidays spent being entertained by the funny one in the family, having all three of the boys together, his teasing and calling me Mommy, seeing him grow into the man I knew he could be, that is what I miss. This is what I wake up in the middle of the night crying about.
And so I write, I paint and I cry out to God.