In a closet in my house I keep a small box hidden away. It is sacred and special to me.
It will never fully heal, it cannot. It has changed me, shaped me, made me the woman I am today. It won't stop, it will continue to evolve with me. I will continue to find meaning, lessons and misery in that wound because I have no other choice. You truly don't know what you can endure until you are given no other option.
My heart aches for those boys who were abruptly and forcibly taken from me. One day I woke up with hope, joy excitement for the future and in an instant it was gone and replaced with shock, anger, disbelief...They say a parent should never outlive their child. It is a cruel and unusual torture to endure and you can't understand until you are forced. You can sympathize, empathize but you will never fully grasp the depth of those wounds until you are there and I pray you never are.
This box brings back these raw, cold feeling which is why I keep it hidden away. Call it denial but for me it is survival. So I reserve that side of me for my private moments. No one can take them from me and they are mine and mine alone. No judgement, misunderstanding or pity. It is my safe place to feel and heal.