And I See Their Faces

I walk around in a daze, shaking my head and muttering to myself.   Phrases like, "I don't understand it.", "How could this have happened?" and of course "Why?" chase each other around and around in my head.

The visions in my head are constant.   I see my mother's face, I see my son's face.  Both faces have the same expression.   They don't speak, but they look at me with pleading eyes as if to say, please help me.

I make the bed, sort the laundry and watch the View, all the while shaking my head and muttering to myself and I see their faces.

I go to Curves, and vaguely hear the chatter of the other women in the background.   I wonder why everyone is smiling and singing along to "Rockin Around The Christmas Tree. I  automatically move when the Curves lady says "Change Stations", all the while shaking my head and muttering to myself and I see their faces.

As we walk through the mall looking for ornaments and Critter hats I  feel exhausted.    On the way home in the car, I knit a few stitches, then stop and stare at the needles in my hands, shake my head and mutter to myself and I see their faces.

While in the laundry room folding clothes, I have a different thought.  I am a failure as a mother.  I didn't do my job.  I should have insisted that he eat more vegetables.  I should have been more loving.  I should have been able to make it okay, just like I promised it would be.  I should have been a better daughter.  I should have been more patient with her.   And I see their faces.

All of the tears that I have been holding onto, escape.  The muttering comes in between the sobs.  The pain is almost unbearable as I see their faces.

I want to be able to feel comforted by my mother.

I want to be able to comfort my son.

I feel the anger and frustration of a spoiled child who can't have what she wants most in the world and I want to scream.  Instead, I hold onto Ross and he promises me that everything is going to be okay.