My Husbands Tears

I realize now that in all my 24 years of life, I have never TRULY felt for someone the way I felt for my dear Husband on Sunday when we recieved news that his Uncle had commited suicide the day prior.
Not only did I feel his grief, but it was I who was placed in the position to tell his sister, my dear friend Angie that her uncle had passed. And I tried so hard to protect her and get her home safely so she could hear it from her father's mouth. But, unfortunately I got the phone call at 9 in the morning, as I slept in the hotel ...because the night before was spent celebrating Angie's bachlorette party. And as I sit up in bed and it hits me that I now bear the burden of delivering the most devestating news to a young women who I love dearly, my heart breaks and I now understand how hard it is to watch others grieve.
My husband has lead a life free from grief, death and dying. He has been lucky to have only lost 1 person close to him before this tragedy. And that person was his grandfather, who had a long, slow death and much time to prepare. But, he hadn't yet dealt with a death which blindsides and cuts through you like a knife. This is the first time he holds "what if" questions. this is the first time he is in shock and then he's angry and then I catch him crying silently, when he thinks no one can see. And I even see how brave and strong he feels he must be for his sister and his mother. I watch his body gestures change and I swear he already knows this his existence is much more important now as the men on his maternal side of the family silently fall to thier death. I watch him kiss his 2 young boys with a much bigger heart, a heart that can deeply love now thanks to the sadness it has felt.
And how awful a feeling that resides in my soul. How much a part of me he is, how his afflictions become my own and hurt as if the man who passed has a history with me personally, and not just my husband. And for the first time, I can see my future in a new light, a different light. Not only do I see the joys of Motherhood, but the hardships. I'm looking ahead at my young boys and the life I carry in my own body and I think...how willI handle thier heartbreaks?? Will not each one tear me apart beyond repair? Am I sentenced to a life of other's suffering becoming my own? No one explained this to me about being a mother, a wife, a sister, a friend. I have learned a great deal in the past few days and my husband and I are even more a part of eachother, we have grown from despair.And now he understands why i kiss my children late at night, while no one is watching, with tears that slide down my cheek, thinking not only of my love for them, but of the sadness my heavy heart feels..because my father never kissed them goodnight.
The small baby in my belly becomes so much more than my third son. I now see why it has happened..and for the first time, his being will make sense to me, with his own special meaning to life..his middle name carrying a history I cannot explain until he is old, and a history he will not fully appreciate until he has his own children.
And through all this, Eric's Grandmother..her poor soul. So young and vibrant and strong. She reminded Eric on the phone that it was his time to go, he suffered and he needed peace. She tells my husband; who is holding back his tears with so much strength that they pour through me instead...she tells him "don't you dare lose your memories of him, memories that only you share, so many good ones..you hold on to them and kiss your boys with them."
and I think "yes, that is the best thing I have heard in days" Yet, my heart breaks for her..because burying your child must be the single most tragic thing a parent must do and I can only pray I outlive all my children and they go own without me happily remembering all the times we shared on this earth in the small, sacred time we are given.