A mother’s memories of grief

It was as if it happened yesterday. Even so many years later, memories pop up. The day you died; my heart bled.

I notice you are lying still on the table after a stormy night in despair.

I enter the most unrealistic door opening in front of me to the chapel. There is a smell of death. Silence. The room is peaceful. Darkness. Only the candles are burning. Everything is half dark, cold and gloomy.

I look at the white cloth over your beautiful face.

‘May I look at him under the cloth?’

‘No! Do not touch him,’ the man said.

‘Why not?’

‘DNA! We need DNA.’

Has anything criminal happened? Goes through my head.

The man disappears. He closes the door in silence. 

  • Finally, alone in the room.
  • There’s a chair next to you.

With horror, I stare at the white cloth. I lift it. I must see if it’s you. I’m looking at your face.

I get the urge to kiss you on the forehead.

  • Kiss you on your cheek.
  • Hold your hand.
  • Give you a hug.
Do not touch! The guy had told me.
  • It has laid a distance between you and me.
  • I’m crying.
  • I gasp for breath.
  • My heart stops for a moment.
  • I miss you so much.
  • I touch your chilly hand.
  • Caresses your cold cheek

I give you a finger kiss on the forehead and lay back the cloth over your icy pale face. Then I cry while I sit with you for a quiet moment.

  • Your sister sits waiting outside. 
  • She can’t. 
  • It broke her.
  • You brother’s don’t understand. 
  • So, I say farewell to you from your sister and brother’s.

    I wish you’re only at sleep like when you were a little boy, when I anxiously watched over your tiny fragile body. In desperate longing, I wait for you to wake up again.


  • Wake up! 
  • It’s late! 
  • Open your eyes!
Don’t leave me in such a devastated mess.


A mother with her deceased son.

The days of grief never disappear.

A memorial is being planned. Nobody says anything. The week goes by until I get the message. 

He’s free!

Seven days after they freed you. Now we decorate your white coffin.

  • Flowers.
  • Red Roses.
  • A letter.
  • A teddy bear. 
  • A cross. 
  • We pray. 
  • Crying. 
  • Listening to the priest.
Your mom says a few words. We sing songs for you in church. Play a lovely tune for you. 

Enigma; Rivers of Believe. 

You love Enigma. 

Your lovely little girl is watching. Your baby is sleeping. Your sister is crying. Your brothers are in despair and I cry before we finally lay you to rest on God’s created green earth.

  • You take the truth with you. 
  • What happened?
  • Good-bye, my love.

Yet I do not know what the truth is.

Nevertheless, you are forever gone. 

A mother’s memories of devastating Grief


Copyright © 2021 . All Rights Reserved . M. L. Stark

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