I'm so tired. I hate you. No, I don't hate you. I love you but I resent the loss of my dreams. Resentment, that's what I'm feeling. If only I could have one night of undisturbed sleep I would love you again. But I do love you. I love you so much It's killing me.
What turmoil I was going through, what guilty, secret turmoil. Secret, because I was ashamed. What mother would feel this way about her child? Her helpless, hopelessly sick and dying child.
Fear, grief, guilt and exhaustion. A lethal combination of emotions. I felt so alone. I needed help, but who would help me if I told them of the resentment that was building up inside me?
Sleep was the answer. Perhaps that was the answer for both of us? Endless sleep that would free us from the pain.
There were no dreams in endless sleep. No dreams of a graduation that would never take place. No dreams of wedding and grandchildren that would never be born. No dreams of death and lonliness. If only I could? But, I never will because while he lives there's always the hope of a miracle. A miracle that would give us both back our lost dreams.
I never hated my child, but I hated the disease that crippled him and caused him so much suffering. I hated my weakness. I hated my "failure" as a wife, mother and woman.
With the passage of time and the easing of grief I have gained wisdom. In my new found wisdom I have granted myself absolution. With absolution comes the joyous memories of times we shared and those memories grow more vivid every year.
Sleepless nights! What sleepless nights? Oh yes, I recall. There was the sleepless night before the day I feared I could not live without him. The sleepless night before the day I begged God to let me take his pain.
What I'd give to have those sleepless nights again, accompanied by my newfound strength and wisdom of today. Alas it can never be, so in my wisdom I look towards a future strengthened by the past.
