INCONSOLABLE,Inconsolable, Inconsolable, Inconsolab
Yes, three years, eight months and some change.
I am inconsolable. Our son, George, said, "Everyone will be sad and mourn for a while, but life will go on".
He wasn't a mother and he never had to watch one of his children die. We, his Father and I, did.
We are inconsolable yet.
Both of us are inconsolable because we cannot call him and hear his voice. He talked with his Dad every day. They were silly, often, and laughed at stupid jokes. Now, his Dad is inconsolable having no son to call.
I am inconsolable because never again will I hear his melodious voice saying "Hey, Mom, whatcha doing"?
I am inconsolable because his oldest son will be 21 years old this month, and George will not be here to hug and admire him. I am inconsolable because his son will not share that first real step into adulthood with his Father.
I am inconsolable because after all this time I am still inconsolable. Sure, I can forget and immerse myself in trivia for a time, but then, missing him, intrudes.
I am inconsolable because I saw the new leader of our country ridicule a handicapped man. It reminded me of a blog entry George wrote when the same thing happened to him on St. Patrick's Day when he was trying to forget he was handicapped and alone. I am inconsolable because so many in our country weren't offended by the lack of compassion for humanity that it exhibited.
I am inconsolable because this handicapped man and so many others, including George, had diseases that are still incurable. Where is our focus?
I am inconsolable because I will never be able to bake another cookie for my son to enjoy. I am inconsolable because his death is forever, and I still am living while his life had real meaning, especially for his children.
I am inconsolable because I have no ability to detach myself from the hurt and pain his suffering caused him and us.
I am inconsolable every time I see a refugee baby, dead on a shore, because George's death magnified the tragedy of indifference.
I am inconsolable in so many ways, not the least during special days when George will not be in our company.
I am inconsolable because memories are not sufficient to take away my inconsolability.
I am inconsolable as I miss my wonderful son who got a shit sandwich, lost his health and chose to die.
Inconsolable, forever.
