Son or Husband

Which hurts the most, losing your son or you husband, which tells about who you love the most. They both died on the same day in the same room minutes apart. I remember looking through the glass asking myself who would I live without him, the thought of every second without him filled me with a dread that knocked me off my feet, a dread that I had never experienced.

They died, not by any fault of their own, it was just a freakish occurrence of sand in their eyes, the storm, the lashing pain against the legs, the wrong foot in the gutter, that is how their lives ended.

I remember the smiles, the hugs and the smells, the special meals and the family games. I cannot forget the day we spent in the green grass, playing monsters and hero’s, then eating until our distended stomachs looked like hillocks ready for ants to nest.

I am forced to continue living my life and I am not sure how I can without them. I miss him, more than him, but am I right to, should I not miss each equally, am I bad in wanting him back more than him. How do I justify my role, how do I beg for forgiveness for not loving one as much as the other, which should hurt more, losing my son or my husband.