Unimaginable
Four years ago I went to make breakfast and entered a world no one wants to be in. The cost of admission is unimaginable loss. Unimaginable, not in the figurative sense of doomsdayers or dramatizers. Literally unimaginable. Loss so painful that even the most caring, most empathetic souls cannot imagine it. Not the people closest and most trusted, not clergy. The loss of a child is a pain known only by those who have lived it, or something very like it. On that day four years ago my life was forever changed. A part of my soul became the home of intermingled love and loss, helplessness and rage, regret and gratitude, stages of grief that overlap and loop back and wrap around each other, loneliness like I'd never known, could not have imagined and still can't describe. It's a part of my soul that even my soulmate cannot touch or comfort, try as he might. I learned early that I wasn't quite as alone as I felt. This new world is populated by others. Among the many cards, t...