Finally Feeling the Pain

It took me a year to finally talk about my son's death with anyone. My mom was there for me the entire time, but it was a year later when I finally would speak to her of it. I cried. I cried a lot, and she just held me as if I was a child. My life had shattered, it had fallen apart, but my mother was still there for me. She talked to me; she helped me to feel better. She helped me to stand up again and want to move forward. And I was able to, for a bit at least. I got my life back together.