Subsequent Beauty

Why did death intercede with life?  Love, death, time.  Time, death, love.  Life. Faith. Resilience Courage. Fear.  Failure. Lost.
You see countless of people blending in with walls.  Untold stories in their heart.  Some perhaps have lost a child or three.  No-one knows what is going through our minds.  No-one knows, or understands unless they have walked our shoes.
Everyone dies.  Some sooner than others.  My son died.  His death was a silent one. It was unexpected.  He just stopped breathing.  No known cause.  You bargain with God – please don’t take my baby away.  Why did my baby die?
Thereafter time becomes an empty void of timeless hurt.  You battle daily with a quagmire of disintegrating life and emotions, They say time heals all wounds but does it, really? Disintegrating tissue. You say life turns into ashes. But it is just dust.  A fist full of dust that can be spread and it evaporates into nothingness. Into disintegrating life and haunting emotions of grief.
Grief and more grief.  Needless pain.  Raw human emotions.  Hidden emotions buried deep within the ashes of death.  Death. Cold and calculated.  No-one knows what it is like to lose a child until you experience child loss your self.
Child loss painful. Lost. Discouraged.  Failure. Fear. Worry. Life. Faith. Resilience. Love, time, death. A harsh reality you get thrown into.  You walk in the depths of a jungle.  Clinging. Wondering. Lead me out.  Lead me away from this harsh reality you suddenly are left in.  A reality that crashes with the dreams and hopes you once had for your child.  A reality lost in the ashes of death.  A reality that clashes with the normality of things.  A  child shouldn’t die.  Let alone a baby shouldn’t die before it’s parents time.
Death took away my son.  Love betrayed me. And here I am sitting in a timeless illusional time wondering if he hadn’t died what would I be doing now? Would I be like all those other women out there pushing baby prams, running around with packages?  What would I be doing if he hadn’t died?  I wouldn’t be sitting here weeping.  Hurting. Drowning in deep human anguish.
I had a son.   His name was Sebastian.  He died of no cause.  His heart just stopped beating.  His name was Sebastian.  Death took over, and left no clue to why he had to die. He was still born.  I had a son.  I was a mum.  I had a son and his name was Sebastian.
Sebastian is my son.  I was a mum. Now, I am just an empty shell of a woman.  An empty shell of what could have been.  Do I choose to let death steal my joy? Do I choose to waste my time? Or do I choose to let love seep through my veins once more?  What will I do with my life?
Sebastian is my son.  I am his mum. He was still-born.


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