Monday, December 31, 2007

A Mother's Wrath

The emotional make-up of a mother is such a paradox.

I am a nurturing, caring person that feels empathy and compassion toward all of the Mothers’ children of the world. I have long forgiven Austin’s girlfriend and family for their contribution towards my son’s death. I want Brielle to be drug-free and live a good and productive life. I want this because I know that is what Austin wants.

I have always avoided conflict, emotional or physical. I do not like violence of any kind. I don’t like to hear someone shout “Moron!” to a car in a traffic situation. I can think of a dozen reasons that a driver may accidentally cut me off, after all, life doesn’t revolve around me and my problems.

I am a Mother. One of generations of mothers that has descended from centuries of Mothers protecting their precious children. As a Mother, a female…we are of a softer, sweeter nature. We want to protect and take care of others.

Now the paradox, the contradiction…..

Someone did something really stupid to my oldest son. I have never felt such enormous, all-encompassing wrath, rage and fury focused at an individual.

Internet fraud, destroying of personal property, extortion…all from a “friend”.

This individual and his extended family, to my knowledge, have not contributed in any positive way to society. He spends his day’s unemployed, playing video games, four-wheeling, sleeping at friends/relatives. Basically, he is a drain on society, not with standing the criminal acts.

This criminal shall feel the intense vehemence of rage as he has never known. .

My son will be fine. He is a good, decent person with a promising future. He has good work ethics, is compassionate and loving, he is truly an amazing young man.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Grief Manifests as Physical Pain

The gnawing pain has been circling my abdomen for months now. It is as if the grief in my heart has overflowed into my intestines and is searching for a new area to explore, invade, and take over. This pain/ grief has become an entity within itself. A creature that is clawing at my insides with such a razor-sharp fury that it leaves me clutching my fists to my stomach in agony. I lay on the cool tiled floor of my bathroom, breathing shallowly, and waiting for the pain to ease.

Last week the pain found its way to my right side. No more was I allowed the brief reprieves that I had earlier. I now had a constant reminder that all was not right. Everything I ate, no matter how bland, gave me pain. Cold drinking water would put my stomach into spasms. Nothing would stay down.

Doctors will evaluate the symptoms, test results and come up with a diagnosis and plan of action.

I need to gain control of my grief or it will manifest itself in another part of my body. I will never quit grieving for Austin, but I don’t want to be a victim of grief.