A breakthrough in grieving
FRIDAY, February 5 – Tears of love ran down my face. Although it would seem I’m not ashamed to cry anywhere these days, I’m glad that Eamonn didn’t see me cry this afternoon. Burying his head in my lap, he had been more open than ever before with the psychologist.
I felt a surge of pride, relief and sadness alongside the love for my son who had talked about the accident for the first time. The dam had burst the evening before when he confessed that he was still tormented by the images of the accident and his memories of the fatal moment.
I couldn’t help him, no matter how much I wanted to. So it was a good thing that a visit to our psychologist was scheduled for today. Eamonn wanted me to bring up the subject and after that he would start to talk.
He described how the mother of his friend, who had both come to the park with them, suddenly called out to him telling him to turn around and go back to the road. He described how he immediately realized that there had been an accident and knew that his Mom had been in the crosswalk and he had run back. And then his voice faltered.
He put his head in my lap and through my tears I told him how brave he was and that I was proud of him. I reassured him that the exact words of his story would never go beyond the walls of this room and that gradually all this pain would begin to lessen. Then it was quiet for a while and that was okay.
Tears of pain, but above all, tears of love.