Searching for Martin

It lasted for about2 months or so I would wake from a light sleep around 4 am it was mid summer and daybreak was appearing. I was angry and desperate to find my son. From my house I would walk to the places where I knew he loved. I was out for hours marching .The house where he rented when he came over sometimes. The top of the moor where he watched the shooting stars. The beaches he loved to walk on. I would power walk exerting myself trying to wear the anger out. Tears would stream the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach .I felt helpless and hopeless empty, lifeless, confused and uncertain of how I could carry on with this pain. I couldn’t find him and being a unbeliever I had no faith in the afterlife. I sat in his old bedroom, I wore his slippers his shirts, I touched his things I held all the gifts he had bought me. I watched videos looked at photos it was so painful but I did anything I could to feel his vibration and connect with him on a spiritual level. This physical death is not the end of the story …….