As I got to the top of the escalator landing, I couldn't help but notice a small boy about 5 or 6 years old standing with who I can only presume were his mother and grandmother. His hair was sandy blond and he had on a light blue shirt and jean shorts. Yet his clothes weren't what caught my attention, but rather the large tears falling from his eyes.
His grandmother was kneeling on the floor next to him doing her best to console him. Sadly, she was failing. He continued to sob even harder the more she talked to him. I tried to make eye contact with him and give him my best "cheer up" smile but he wouldn't look in my direction. My heart ached for this little boy. I have been in his position countless times. I remember choking up each and every time I have had to say goodbye to friends, my sister and of course how awful it was saying goodbye to my parents in airports. We have all had to say goodbye to someone special in the airport and in life. I believe that it is the hardest thing a person will endure in their lifetime. If you haven't experience either then consider yourself very fortunate.
Seeing that little boy cry, I was suddenly made aware of my own constant grief and sadness that I feel. For the most part, I do a really good job of pretending that everything is fine and my parents are still happily living overseas. My brain knows this is not true but my heart needs to think this in order to get through my days. This image with the little boy brought to my attention the fact that I'll always feel in my heart just like him. I will always have this sadness and pain deep within me. There's no escaping it. I'm not sure if it will ever go away. I don't even know if I want it to go away altogether.
Several months ago my sister forwarded me the following conversation from the movie, "Rabbit Hole". I think that these lines certainly explain to the outsider what it's like going through life after experiencing an intense loss.
From the 2010 film "Rabbit Hole":
Becca: Does it ever go away?
Nat: No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for eleven years. But it changes
Nat: I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into
something that you can crawl out from under and... carry around like a brick in your pocket.
And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and -
there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be awful - not all the time. It's kinda...
Nat: Not that you'd like it exactly, but it's what you've got instead of your son. So, you carry it
around. And uh... it doesn't go away. Which is...
Becca: Which is what?
Nat: Fine, actually.