Wednesday post-Death of a Son

They killed my son; they hung him on a cross. It happened three days ago, on Friday. They released a killer so they could kill an innocent man. My tears fell through the holes in his feet as the blood from the steaks dripped onto my face. I did not know why they did it, why they let Him die. He did no harm, He healed, He taught, He Loved, and He died. I was there, next to Mary, John, and my dying Son. I remember when He got sick when He was little and I would wipe his nose with my cloak. Now I just wipe his blood with my hair. His body they broke, but His spirit was His to do what He wanted with; He surrendered it freely. I heard Him say, "Father," He said, "To you I commend my spirit." Those were the last precious few words my Son ever said. After all of the teachings, all of the broken lives healed, all of the demon possessed and the sick standing around Him, all that He did in His remarkable life that started when God put Him in my belly, all of it culminated in that one last, lingering sentence. And then Darkness filled the land for the rest of the night.
It feels like it is still here though, the darkness. Just from His passing, a gloom has come over me. It feels like I was crucified with Him, like all of my pain and despair was nailed into the cross with my Son. I feel free, even though it hurts so much. I am now going to visit His grave with Mary, my dear friend who has comforted me so much this intense weekend of mourning. So many have come to my house, telling me it will be better, comforting me in my sharp, striking pain. But none of it helps, none of it eases the pain of His death. I feel so bad; I knew He had to die, for my sins, and I feel selfish for wanting Him back with me, wanting to cook him soup again, and cradle Him when He stubs His toes. Rather than watch as His toes are pierced.
I reach the grave to see the stone rolled away. Mary and I rush in; if they took Him...
He is not here, this is awful. Suddenly, a figure in white appears, sitting on the stone. "Why do you look for the living among the dead? Did you not hear? He is risen!" This changes everything. My sins have been killed, but my Son is alive again. I must run and tell everyone. I must find someone and tell someone, you must tell someone.