8. Jul, 2022
MEMORIES
This last week was a pretty bad one for me. I am just completely floored by grief, sadness and hopelessness. It is fueled by a bombardment of memories - good memories that somehow create this black hole I am in. I miss that him, I miss that I will never get new memories added. What if the memories of 13 years run out? I get a panic attack...
I remember him standing on his bed's headrest to close the curtains, with a naughty smile on his face - knowing he was going to jump on the bed. I remember we were shopping and he will hold my hand of put his arm around my waste and we would browse and chat. I remember him coming to say "Hi Mommy! Love you!" at the Voortrekker camps. I remember the Liam sit on the kitchen counter. I remember his fast footsteps as he ran over the dining room wooden floor outside to play with his beloved bunnies. I remember him lying on the warm carpet in the lounge covered with a blanket watching an action movie or a documentary about the wars and the marines.
I remember his warm soft skin of his cheek when I waked him in the morning with a kiss and his eyes opening up with his usual sparkle - my sunshine son. I remember his smell and the feel of his boney muscled body sitting on my lap. I remember the hugs in the morning and him sitting on the bed waiting for me to finish putting on my face. He would then say: "You are so pretty, Mommy!".
I remember him sitting next to me driving to school, him going through Spotify to add to his playlist. I remember him humming or singing the songs he loved. I remember him jumping to the back realising he forgot his mask in the back of the car. I remember him giving me a kiss and a hug and a "I love you" every single day. I remember the struggle with homework and the tearworks when he could not get something right. I remember him sitting on the couch, reading that thick book he was busy with. I remember him dressing up, jeans, white collar shirt and one of his dad's ties with his army boots.
I remember him being awarded the Youth Leader award and he got up with a resounding "YES!". I remember the look of pride in his eyes. I remember him always lying on my lap and I got to play with his beautiful deep reddish hair.
How the memories hurt! How they bleed my already shattered heart. They are not bitter sweet yet. They make me sad, depressed and wanting to role into a ball and never get out.
My nightmares are coming back about his death and his lifeless body lying there...
This places me further into the blackness and darkness and the unfairness. Why my Liam? Why this happy sunshine child loving to live? What did we do wrong that we were punished and tortured like this. We are coming up to our 9 months anniversary. Time flies, yet, not fast enough.
I know I should be grateful for Franco and Raine. I am grateful for them. But only if you lost a child can you fully comprehend the pain that runs through your veins. My friend at work said something interesting - we speak a new language and we need to get to know people who speak the same language we do. I am so tired of this new life. It is a difficult tiredness to explain to people. My soul is tired of feeling bombarded with the sadness, anger, denial etc.
We are trying to make new memories and I love that we try new things and we are enjoying each other's company. But always feel the empty space next to me. That will never ever change. They say that the memories of us and Liam will become treasures. But not yet. It is not time yet.
One day when I am old, I will look at my wrinkled face and realise I really did live. Life has dealt me some very bitter stuff, but I lived. Hopefully somewhere down the line I will see if my life mattered, like Liam's life mattered to me. But now I feel useless, hopeless and lonely.