Wednesday, June 13, 2012
If I can get through this
Here's my official song these days. This Friday will be four weeks since my son had his seizure. Friday will mark four weeks since, since, since everything.
This is my afterlife, the life after. This is our life beyond, for my family, and for those around us who were affected by my son's passing.
This is that life you imagine when someone says, "I can't imagine life without you."
Only we don't have to imagine, do we?
I keep singing this song. Some of the lyrics don't make a damned bit of sense, but they ring true, sort of like Pearl Jam's Yellow Ledbetter. You hear what you want to hear, what you need to hear.
In any case, I am making progress on my current WiP. I have written almost 10kw since last week. They have been hard words, and I don't know if they are flat or vibrant, but they are on paper, by God, at least in the electrical metaphorical sense of "being on paper."
I am making forward progress. I am moving upward, up up up, always up.
And if I can get through this, I can get through anything, by God.
I mean, what have I to fear when my greatest fear is passed?
Answer: Not a goddamned thing. I face God's own pain, the one He touts as His greatest gift to mankind, and I say: Hey God, my son was only eighteen months old. Yours was a middle-aged man who everyone thought was a lunatic. You got yours back after three short days, but mine isn't coming back, not by my hand, at least.
So what else you got, Old Man? Bring it. Whatever fear I had, left with my son's last breath.
Wishing you all the best. Your prayers and heartfelt thoughts are physical.
Eric W. Trant is a published author of several short stories and the novel Out of the Great Black Nothing. He is currently represented by Debrin Case at Open Heart Publishing. See more of Eric's work here: Publications