How do people cope with loss of a dear one?

I didn’t go to work today. 

I couldn’t. 

I couldn’t do much with myself actually.

For the first time since your demise, I let myself cry, let the tears flow freely, silently, staring at your pictures on my phone; easily over 500 pictures and so many videos of you, just being you.

I type this soaked in tears. Something I am not used to. I rarely cry, honestly.

I am so used to being in control of every situation, I am always trying to be strong, to help make sense of the matter, no matter what it is; I can always handle it, and put everyone at ease. That’s what I’m used to.

But this? This has got me all befuddled, I really am still trying to grasp fully my situation.

I have come to realize that you can’t always be strong, you can’t always have everything under control, you can’t always know exactly what to do; sometimes, it seems all you need to do is cry it all out, and you’ll feel much better. Yet, I don't know if I feel any better.

When you passed, I sat, numbed, in that hospital, I had seemingly stopped ‘feeling’ things around me, I remember I walked out of the hospital building, all the way to the parking lot, walked up to the car of a total stranger, and was pulling furiously at the door handle, to open it up, but it just wouldn’t budge, and I kept pulling and asking myself, “what the heck is wrong with this car?” and the guy stood there, staring at me, it was almost as if he understood what I was going through. 

I have no idea what he said, if he said anything at all. 

I remember faintly hearing my name, from what seemed like a very far distance, I turned around and I could see my brother, running towards me from a different car and calling my name, and my mum, walking slowly towards us, I turned and walked away, and I didn’t even apologize to the other guy whose car I was assaulting. It was an 'out of body' experience, unreal.

I remember, the crowd of folks who kept pouring in to condole with my family, all with long faces, some trying to cheer me up, others were bawling, I had to be the one saying sorry to most people who showed up, but I don’t remember crying at all. I just seemingly couldn’t, if everyone else was crying, who would console them? I kept asking myself. 

“You’ve gotta be strong” I kept telling myself.

And so, I laughed (almost hysterically), cracked light jokes, smiled, and looked 'all good' to the outside world, but deep down inside, I was melting, gradually, melting away that hard resolve not to break out, I was melting.

I put you in a deep corner, in my heart, and locked up that part, and occasionally visited, to say hi; but last night, knowing that today would have been your very first birthday kept me up, I couldn’t sleep. I was wide awake, thinking so many thoughts, and gradually, I opened up all the memories, I started scrolling through your pictures, and found myself still awake by 3am, this morning. 

I realized I haven’t truly let it sink in, that you are truly gone, my own child. My very own offspring, gone, for good.
We live in a world where we truly can’t explain most of what happens, we just go through the motions, and we will never truly understand the mysteries of the universe.

I have no words to truly express how I feel at the moment, I doubt I ever will have the words, it’s inexplicable. It just is. 

How do people deal with this sort of loss?

How do they cope?

What do they do, to keep from going bonkers?

I’ll just keep doing what I’ve done for these past seven months that you’ve been gone; Singing.

It’s the least I can do; they say ‘as long as there’s life, there’s hope’.   

Well, music is my therapy, if I’m truly healing, I can’t say, but I try to keep going, because that’s what you would want mummy to do, isn’t it?, and because daddy needs a strong support.

It’s just that sometimes, I get so sick and tired of being ‘strong’ but I’ll just keep going.