Tears

Will there ever come a day when I don’t cry? I like to believe so but truthfully, in the three and a half months since Charlie’s death, not a day has gone by without tears. I fall asleep thinking of Charlie and I wake up thinking of her.

The pain of the loss of our daughter and sister is physically overwhelming. I literally feel it building inside me. I try to keep it down deep, too far from the surface for me to feel or others to see. But, like a bucket in the rain, there comes a point when there is simply too much to store. The pain wells up and out it comes. Each of my tears carries with it a tiny speck of pain but the pain doesn’t go away; it just gets recycled. The rain keeps falling. And my bucket keeps overflowing. Each crying session just brings a short bit of respite before it all comes back again.

By no means do I mean to suggest that I am the only person who has felt this way. Many families in Ukraine right now are suffering similarly. Any parents who have lost children know this pain. I am not unique. I am simply trying to share some of what I keep so well hidden from my friends, colleagues, and the world at large — most of the time.

Yet, sometimes it’s hard to keep it hidden when I hear others complain of what feel like such petty problems when you see the world through suicide survivor’s eyes. I can’t help but think, “you have your family. Nothing else really matters.” Even before Charlie left us, I used to say when asked how I was, “I have my kids, husband, siblings, and parents. What more can a person ask?” I can never say that again. I will never feel complete again. I will always walk with Charlie’s shadow hovering over me. Never again will the sun shine as brightly as it did with her in my world. Every day it will rain saltwater tears.

And every day, I will keep working toward finding ways to be okay with the pain I carry. Every day I try to see Charlie’s beauty in the world around me. I try to recognize others’ pain, with which I empathize, and celebrate their joys too, even though I can’t remember what joy feels like anymore. Fake it until you make it as they say. Will I ever? It’s too soon to say.