Excerpt from book It’s my Time to Grieve by Phoebe Leggett available at www.amazon.com
It was heart wrenching to see the crushed body of my youngest child with my own eyes. But, it was necessary, and needed for closure. Yet because Matthew was my baby, the pain was unbelievable.
His swollen head oozed a slow stream of blood; evidence of recent trauma. The metal slab where he lay was cold and rigid; as was the funeral home. He was as he had died; not yet prepared for burial.
I wanted to touch him, and hold him close; to cradle him and tell him how sorry I was this had happened—that he deserved better than this. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him; that past conflicts weren’t important, but he was; and that—somehow—everything would be alright.
But I didn’t, and it wasn’t. I just stood stone-cold in front of him; unable to move, unable to think, and unable to cry. I didn’t want to believe this was my child.
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