Fill My Soul

Photo by Elu012bna Aru0101ja on

When my son died, I felt like my heart went into shock. It went completely numb.

I couldn’t cry; I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t feel pain; my heart couldn’t grieve. It felt mechanical and lifeless. Every bit of my being left, I felt mechanical, without a soul.

I stood over his coffin; it wasn’t him. I couldn’t see my baby. Instead, I saw a man dressed in funeral attire; this wasn’t my son.

I saw his grave and watched them let down his coffin six feet under. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t feel pain; my heart refused to grieve. I refused to believe he was gone. My soul went with him where he took his last breath.

I tried to find where his body was found, like a desperate mother searching for her lost child. I wanted to touch the ground where he breathed his last breath and catch a whiff of where his soul left. But no one would show me, no one would take me to the place he laid; this is where I lost my soul; this is where I can cry, feel my pain, and my heart can grieve and feel my soul.