WEEPING IS NOT WEAKNESS

     Turquoise, rosy cornflower, and baby blues traverse the horizon as I settle into my porch chair, coffee in hand. A new day is dawning, and nothing but beauty surrounds me; yet, as I sip my coffee tears well up and spill down my cheeks.
     I don't wipe them away. There is no one here to see, to question, to pat my hand or ask if I am okay. I am, actually, fine.
     This is normal.
     My normal.
     At this point, I cannot in all honesty claim it as 'new' normal. It has been over eight years since my son died. There is nothing new in my tears.
     Sadness isn't the reason for this salty release. I wasn't woken from the grip of a nightmare's torment. Nothing horrendous happened to someone I love or me personally today or yesterday or recently. This week, in fact, has been particularly lovely, filled with moments of total joy. Good writing. New opportunities. Blissful rides. Great friends. Buoyant laughter. Joy.
     My weeping this morning, in this moment, is simply the release of unexpected, inherent loss. Someone foolishly once spoke or wrote the words, 'Time heals all wounds.' No amount of time will fill the hole left by the absence of my Robbie. Anyone who believes that is a fool or someone lucky enough to have never experienced loss.
     Weeping allows the release of sadness, the proof that my boy was loved beyond physical limits of a mother's heart.
     Weeping is proof that he was real. He is always with me. Forever.
     Weeping is not a sign of weakness. It is the oil that greases the cogs of my broken heart so that I may rise another day and enjoy the beautiful things that make life worth living.
     So, I embrace the weeping. Reach out to others and accept their love. Laugh and cry and fight and make up as many times, for as many days as I am granted.
     Because, life is made of all that and more; and, it is worth living.
     It is worth the living!








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