Grief in a Towel

I usually don't share much about the death of my son and how I am living without him but I am going to do it now and then...
My mind went crazy with pain after Ezra’s death. It was like an intensive burn had just happened on my soul and I was looking for anything to alleviate the pain. I think I spent about 100 USD on a life sized laminated poster of him. What did I intend to do with that? I had to do something. I dreamt about a house for street boys named the Ezra House. That wasn’t possible but I had to do something. I felt helpless. I wanted so badly to have him back and just the little things like that seemed to help like cold water on a burn or a Band-Aid on an open wound.
I have one of his towels and a cap he used to wear. Today while I took the towel off the line grief visited me. I buried my face in it and wept. I wished I had been able to wash it for him and not me. I thought I was far enough away from the girl’s house in my own house but they heard me and came running. I explained and they wrapped their arms around me and prayed for me.
Sometimes a panic comes over me and it’s like I am fighting with grief. Sometimes I look for it feeling like it should be time to feel deeply about my loss and I can’t find it, I am left frustrated. Other times it surprises me and I just let it wash over me and win. There is something peaceful about those times. It’s something I can do that seems natural and just.