by Melissa Griffin
I was 7 and he was 11. I'm now 37 and it's been 30 years.
I can't explain my grief. All I know is it still hurts. Some days more than others.
I'm married now, with two children of my own. My husbands cousin just lost her son. He was 7.
This death, of a boy so young, is bringing up all kinds of pain. I don't want to be selfish and think about myself and my pain. They just lost their son. I cannot imagine their grief. Except I can. I remember what it did to my parents when my brother died. I remember such indescribable pain. I remember the tears. I remember the funeral. The funeral that I couldn't process. Saying goodbye to someone I barely knew but should have. Again, I was only 7.
How do I recover from my pain? It's been 30 years. Why is it still so fresh in my memory? Why won't it let me go?