My world was whole. I was fortunate, whether I always realized it or not. Good days dominated. In fact, I didn’t know what a bad day was. I thought I did, but I didn’t.
When my son died, my world imploded. As one world faded, another one took its place, and in this newly emerging world, I was indifferent to or incapable of remembering life as it had existed before.
Now I live in two worlds, parallel worlds. The notion of parallel worlds helps to explain this person I occasionally catch a glimpse of who has the ability to feel happiness again, if only for a moment. It takes my breath away.
How can I be enjoying myself, laughing, smiling? Have I forgotten that my son is gone? How can I be looking forward to taking a trip where my son’s ashes will be scattered?
Pleasure survives even without my permission.