I live in Alabama where we don’t have extremely cold winters. Summer is extremely hot and humid. Winter is usually mild with a few cold snaps. Last week, we had one of those cold snaps, where the night time temperature was below 10 degrees F. That is very cold for Alabama. We rarely have any measurable amount of snow; but, this month we have had snow twice. Records were broken in some areas of North Alabama.
As I sat in my den, with a roaring fire and a blanket, I heard a roaring sound. It sounded a little like thunder, or maybe a plane flying very low. The night was clear so I knew it was not thunder. I didn’t see any planes but I was sure one was about to crash in my neighborhood, maybe even on my house. My dogs were growling and pacing. This roaring sound went on and on. I sat there, waiting patiently for the plane to crash or for the end of the world. I was ready to go with God. I was ready to be in Heaven with my son. So, I was not scared as I waited. I prayed and I waited. It was not the end of the world and a plane did not crash on my house. I was disappointed. Three years ago, I would have been running for cover, and would have thought of many ways to survive because my son needed me. Now, he does not need me. So, that night, I was ready and willing to go. It is a strange feeling when you realize that death has no hold over you, when you have no fear of death, no longing to keep living, no regrets. In some ways, I find it very comforting to know that death does not have a grip on me. But, I freely admit that I would much rather have my son here on earth and be wanting to stay around for him.
I am sure you are wondering what the roaring sound was. I found out the next day that it was a cryoseismic boom,also called a “frost quake” caused by the rapid expansion of water underground. People all over the area were talking about it. I was not alone in thinking a plane was flying very low and about to crash. I was alone, however, in being ready to leave this earthly life.
A Mother's Grief and Learning to Live Again 
So glad you are still here with us.. Love you
I understand.
My son died a little over 7 months ago. The last time I saw him was when I took him to the airport. I didn’t want him to go and even stopped myself from taking a photo. I raised my phone to do so, and then lowered it telling myself, no, those are the pictures people us after someone has died. He’d gone through a terrible time that last year and there is not a soul who really understands my intense pain, not for me, but for what he went through. I feel by letting it go, is saying it didn’t matter. I does matter and will until the day I die. I used to love the sound of planes, but when I hear one I wish it to crash into my house. That sounds terrible, and unless you’ve lost a child it would be difficult understand. Every single day I say many times that I don’t know if I can make it. Even we who have lost a child do not know exactly how a parent feels, but at least we share the pain. I do believe in God and trust my son his with him now. I wish He would show me a vision though…
Here is edited version: My son died a little over 7 months ago. The last time I saw him was when I took him to the airport. I didn’t want him to go and even stopped myself from taking a photo. I raised my phone to do so, and then lowered it telling myself, no, those are the pictures people use after someone has died. He’d gone through a terrible time that last year and there is not a soul who really understands my intense pain, not for me, but for what he went through. I feel by letting it go, is saying it didn’t matter. It does matter and will until the day I die. I used to love the sound of planes, but when I hear one I wish it to crash into my house. That sounds terrible, and unless you’ve lost a child it would be difficult understand (and I really wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt). Every single day I say many times that I don’t know if I can make it. Even we who have lost a child do not know exactly how other parents feel, but at least we share the pain that’s like no other. I do believe in God and trust my son his with him now. I wish He would show me a vision though…
Thanks for your words. We lost our first born son over a year ago in an auto accident. I miss him daily and live will never be the same.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I still miss my son every day. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him many times. I hope you are finding ways to live with this giant hole in your heart.
I lost my sweet, loving son 7 months ago. He was only 16. Together we fought a vicious battle against a rare and aggressive cancer. This is the first place I’ve found to talk to parents who also deal with this pain. I do not want to live but don’t end my life because of my other family members. I still hope this grief will kill me. I feel that there is no longer any purpose for me to be here. I wish I could have taken my last breath as he did.
I am so sorry. I understand how you feel. I can say that things are better now but it’s been a very hard 7 years. It does help to talk to other parents who are living with this huge hole in their hearts.