an episodic journal by Corey B. Buckner

Legendary Grief Ch. 2

by Corey B. Buckner

I am supposed to be the strong one. Mr. Big Strong U himself, reduced to puddy. The very thought of what has happened reduces my bones to plasma and I can neither stand or walk. Like Samson sans his hair, this has me too weak to fight. It has me too weak to pursue my purpose. I'm supposed to be strong, but weakness is my portion in the aftermath of my son's passing.

My wife is still supposed to be pregnant. Right now I am supposed to be able to roll over, put my hand on her protruding stomach and feel my baby boy kick. But I can't. I no longer have that ability, because he isn't there anymore. My son, Legend Love Buckner has already come and gone and I have already held and felt him for both the first and last time. My opportunity to feel my son has already come and gone.

Now, all I have are memories of hopes and dreams that won't be realized. I am left with memories of thoughts I had about a future that will never come. I miss them. I miss the thoughts, I miss the Hope's for the future. I miss pondering his gender. The mystery has been replaced by misery, because all of that has gone from me.

I miss laying up at night wondering about what he will look like. I want to return to the wonder of who is growing inside my wife's stomach, and I should be able to because she should still be pregnant. He should still be there, but he's not. I have already seen him.

I saw what my son looked like, but before he completed his development. Now I'm left wondering what he would have looked like had he grown a little longer. Just a few more weeks and months and I would have known if he looked like me or like his mother. Now, we will never fully know, so I'm left to imagine. Forever… from now until I join him in paradise I am left to wonder how he would have looked.

I can't stop keeping track of the weeks. I can't stop charting how far along my wife should be. Sometimes I still rub her stomach, before realizing that our son is not in there anymore. I don't know if it's out of habit, wishful thinking or because it's therapeutic. But I do it, and do it without thinking. That's because my wife SHOULD still be pregnant. But she's not. My son is no longer with her… he is with the Lord now.

continue to Chapter 3