My friend, my heart goes out to you today. I am not a parent myself, although I lost my big brother a couple of years ago, and witnessed the hurt that my parents have been through afterwards. Losing a sibling is a unique, heartbreaking type of pain, and I came to see simultaneously how much losing a son is also a unique type of hurt that words are not enough to describe. I will never forget the sound of my mother’s screams and cries when she saw the body of my brother for the first time. The silence it leaves you with can’t be compared to anything else. I’m truly sorry that this has been a part of your own journey. Dealing with the injustice of losing your very own son, especially in such a sudden and brutal way. It’s something that belongs to what’s unconceivable to your heart, even after being forced to face that kind of reality.
How you feel makes so much sense in these circumstances, and somehow it doesn’t matter how much time has passed. The pain comes through waves that sometimes make you feel like it all happened yesterday. As you said so well, it feels like a part of you is gone with him, and you are left wandering with all these questions unanswered. It’s pure torture to the soul.
I don’t know if you are familiar with the metal band Parkway Drive, but the words you’ve shared here in your message have reminded me so much of this song called “Wishing Wells”. Winston (the lead singer) conveys the anger that the realms of grief generates in such a raw and honest way. The whole song is about needing to have a conversation with God, dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s as to why He seems to take away the ones we love the most in such unfair ways. It’s a dramatically beautiful depiction of the anger that fills you in when you are met with death so abruptly.
In a different context of course, this song has been a huge crutch to me personally, and I suspect that it could resonate with you as well, maybe offer some catharsis too. It isn’t much, but I hope it can offer some kind of release for you, even if just temporarily.
I won’t have the pretention to have any answer as to “why” such injustice happened, and to be honest I received similar answers as you when trying to find meaning through what seems to have none. It’s frustrating somehow, and isolating. With certainty though, I’m sitting next to you right now, even just virtually, and will be sending my thoughts to your son and you.
Thank you for sharing such an important of your story, of you. 