Curtain down, exit stage left

The time of concern is over. Enough time has passed, we should be over it by now, right? No longer are we asked how we’re doing. Never are the names of our children mentioned to us. The curtain drops. The moment has passed. There are exceptions: close and compassionate friends, sensitive and loving family. Thank God for them. For most, the drama is over. The spotlight is off. Applause is silent.

But for us left behind, the play will never end. The effects on us are timeless. The scars are internal and really deep. What can be said, you ask? Just, simply “I remember when Ryan did….” Or, “I was reminded of Ryan the other day…..” You see, how beautiful! How wonderful those words are to hear! Their names are written on our heart forever. You may feel that they are dead. But we feel that they are of the dead, but are still alive in spirit. You say, “They were your children”; we say “They are our children”. Please say “their names” to us. It hurts us to bury their memory in silence. We already buried their bodies. What they were in flesh is no longer with us. We know that all too well. What they are in spirit stays with us always. They were of our past but they are part of our now. They are our hope for the future. That is all we have. Please understand we cannot forget. We would not if we could. That would mean they die again.

We know that you cannot truly understand, you may not have buried a child. Yesterday we were like you. Understand that we dwell in both flesh and spirit. We do not ask you to walk this road. We would not wish that on you. The ascent is steep and the burden very heavy. We walk it not by choice. We would rather walk it with them in the flesh, looking not to spirit worlds beyond. We are what we have to be. What we have lost, you cannot feel. What we have gained you may not see. Please say “their names” for they are alive to us. We will meet them again, although in many ways we’ve never parted. We are tied together forever by a cord that will never be broken, it cannot be. Their spirits play light songs, appear in sunrises and sunsets. They are real and shadow, they were and they are.

Mostly, forgive us when we speak of them frequently. It is how we keep them alive in our heart. It is a promise we kept to them when we said our final goodbye. We promised we would not let them be forgotten, never. We cannot break this promise. Please say “their names” to us and allow us to do the same. They are our children and we love them as we always did. Even more each passing day.

His name is Ryan. His life mattered. He is real.

A message of love…Just a Mom