BoMares a Mother's PTSD

 


Bomares a Mother's PTSD

It always starts about this time of year, the visions, the son visiting his Mom in her dreams, the flashbacks, the tears and the empty heart.

Some visions and dreams are peaceful, fun and so real that I have to shake myself awake to remember that Bo is not present here, but always alive within me.  Others, make me wake up
sad, heart hurting with silent tears streaming down my face

Bomares are those visions were I am on the back of Bo's motorcycle, I see, feel and hear the impact, the heat of the explosion and the sounds of my son's last breath.  I see the life leave his body and the peace overtake the soul.  I can't get to him in time, I can't help.  I am a soul hovering above his body, crying out for him not to leave me, screaming but no sound coming, reaching, reaching to touch his face and hear him say "Momma".

I share my thoughts with you, not for sympathy, not for you to feel my pain, but for you to understand that as close as I try to walk with God, as much as I want you to see His light within me, there are days when the smiles are just a little slower, the heart hurts so much more and the pain in my eyes is real.

The faith that sustains me gets stronger with each "Bomare" because I know that my son is wrapped safely in the arms of Jesus, that he didn't suffer and that when I couldn't reach him, hold him and be there the last moment of his life - someone much greater than me was.

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