A Mother’s Grief

Grieving

Sept 9, 2016

Today, at 3:53 Pm, I answered the call that I have been terrified to receive for the last several months. The call that no parent should ever have to answer.
Michael has left this realm. My son is gone.
He had moved in with family and was doing well… they had even started making plans to get him into a treatment facility. He was making plans with friends and was supposed to go to work tomorrow. But, that demon had to come knocking one last time. He was discovered this afternoon by his Aunt, but there was nothing anyone could have done.
His Dad and I are going through the motions, the legalities, the paperwork… we have called most everyone that we can think of. We cannot make solid plans for services until he is released, but once we have things situated I will post the information for those that care to attend.
Yes, I will be at fair tomorrow. I have a job to do & it will be better for me to be distracted for a few hours instead of sitting at home all in my head.
Please, I beg you…. go about business as usual. I need distraction and normalcy. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for all of the love that has been sent thus far.

 

Sept 10, 2016

He loved mornings like this; cool, crisp, after a good cleansing storm.

 

Sept 10, 2016

I’m frozen in time as I watch the world move around me. I’m in a fog… a nightmare…. Please… I want to wake up now. I want you to wake up now. Come back.

 

Sept 12, 2016

I’ve been trying to find a memorial pendant all afternoon. Not finding what I want. Getting frustrated.

 

Sept 13, 2016

Collecting photos. Lots of smiles. Lots of laughter. Lots of tears.

 

Sept 13, 2016

Getting a quote on his tattoo

 

Sept 14, 2016

Running errands was difficult today. I didn’t really feel like going anywhere or doing anything. I had to buy blouses because I didn’t have anything appropriate for the occasion & weather that still fit properly. I was doing laps in the women’s department … trying to find something …
I got mad at him.
I felt my face flush & hot, angry tears filled my eyes. “I shouldn’t HAVE to be searching for blouses … I shouldn’t have to be buying blouses for my son’s funeral!!”
I held it together & completed my shopping… until I got home.

 

Sept 15, 2016

*deep breaths*

 

Sept 15, 2016

Today’s most said phrases:
“Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for your support.”
“Thank you for loving him.”
“I’m doing o.k.”
“One breath at a time.”
“I wish we were seeing each other under better circumstances.”
“His Dad’s family has been amazing.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I hope he finally sees how many people truly loved him.”

I miss you, Son. I’ll love you for eternity.

 

Sept 16, 2016

My beautiful baby… what am I going to do without you? This hurts so much. I told you this would destroy me…

Sept 18, 2016

I have saved enough for the tattoo. Time to schedule my appointment.

 

Sept 21, 2016

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Sept 28, 2016

As an Empath, I have always been better able to relate to (feel) other people’s emotions than most folks are. I thoroughly understood the concept of “dying from a broken heart”. I had no issues feeling the pain and anguish of those going through life-altering grief due to the loss of a spouse, a child, or even a parent.
With that being said, those tiny glimpses of sharing their pain are nothing compared to having to live within that pain every single moment. This emptiness is nearly unbearable. I say “nearly” only because I know that I am not the first to have to live with this pain, and countless others have done it for centuries before me.
I know I must continue to go about my days as they are laid out before me… but I just cannot imagine having to live for the next 40-50+ years with this massive emptiness in my soul.
Nothing is “right” anymore. Nothing will ever be “right” again.

 

Sept 29, 2016

It’ll be 3 weeks tomorrow. I cry every day. He’s in my thoughts every minute. My soul has an emptiness I never knew was possible.
Please, if you are struggling or if you know someone who is, get them help before it’s too late.

 

Oct 9, 2016

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Oct 10, 2016

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

This is a lesson we can learn from Michael.

Not only did he dance in the rain, he wanted to dance in the rain.

Michael had his share of storms during his short life, so he knew from experience that another storm was coming on the heels of the one that just passed.

If he hadn’t learned to dance; he may have remained dry, but unfulfilled. And that just wouldn’t do.

Michael lived his life on his terms. He listened, even if he didn’t always take advice. He did not conform to social “norms.” But he wasn’t rebelling against anyone or anything.

He was a free spirit who lived in the present, and on his terms.

Michael loved nature, and spending time outdoors. He loved hiking. He loved this place and the people that were part of it. He was a dreamer. He was kind. I never once heard him raise his voice or lose his temper. He wasn’t prone to holding grudges.

People genuinely liked him. He always that big smile of his for his friends, and for anyone he met.

Some (maybe even most) of us here today, and with us in spirit, might be wondering “Why?” or thinking “If Only…” But we may never be able to know for sure why.

And the truth is that there is no single “should have done” or “could have done” or “did” or “didn’t do” that would have changed any of that. All that love could do was done.

So treasure every moment you have. You will treasure it even more when you can share it with people who are special to you.

Godspeed, Michael; and never, ever stop dancing in the rain.”

 

Oct 16, 2016

Today is the last day of KCRF & the finale to our 2016 festival season. I can’t say I’m sorry to be finished with this year. It’s been challenging in various ways. I am slightly anxious about not having my weekend reprieves from reality, as now I won’t have anything to distract me. It’s time to face the tidal wave head-on.
God give me strength…

Oct 16, 2016

He loved Mingulay Boat Song.
I tried to steel myself.
I failed.

 

Oct 19, 2016

So let me get this right… they couldn’t come to their brother’s services because they would have had to miss a couple of days of home-schooling… but there’s no issue with them missing the same number of days for a martial arts seminar.
Got it.

 

Oct 19, 2016

I loved you First. I love you Still.

 

Oct 21, 2016

I am an emotional time bomb.

 

Oct 21, 2016

I’d always hoped I would be able to have all 5 of our kids together for Christmas someday… and now, I never will.

 

Oct 24, 2016

I’ve decided that I’m not doing Halloween this year. Those that know me well know that this has never happened (and probably thought it never would).
I may not bother with Thanksgiving either. And if it weren’t for our other kids, Christmas would go right the fuck out the window.
I just don’t care anymore.

 

Oct 27, 2016

Would you have found the “one”? Would you have had children? You would have been an amazing Dad. I saw it in you long before you did. You could have changed the world around you… You were meant for so much more. Your spirit was so powerful. Now your Dad & I are left with an emptiness in our souls that can never heal. I’m making it my mission to try & save others by sharing your story.

 

Oct 31, 2016

I should have gone and got him. I should have made him come home with me.

 

Nov 1, 2016

I’m just sitting here, watching “The Heroin Trail”, nodding my head… shaking my head… and crying.

 

Nov 3, 2016

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Nov 10, 2016

I am tired.
Not your regular “I didn’t get enough sleep last night” tired, but bone weary tired. I haven’t had a full nights sleep in months. I’ve been sick, mourning, battling demons, battling hatred, & masking it all with my famous “emotional wall”. I’ve kept my mouth shut & soldiered on. My failures as a daughter, sister, mother, wife, friend, & general human have been thrown in my face repeatedly.
There is no relief in sight. The tunnel is just as black & foreboding as it has ever been.
Yesterday marked 2 months since Michael died. It feels like an eternity, yet the devastation is still so fresh. On top of that, my eldest daughter wants nothing to do with me & has written me off completely. So essentially I feel like I’ve lost 2 children this year.
I let my fear & anxiety get the better of me & I basically picked a fight with Mr earlier this evening. (I know I already told you, but I’m sorry babe)
I feel like my strength is giving way to my weakness.
My soul is aching.
I am tired.

 

Nov 14, 2016

I took some pictures of the Super Moon tonight. I’ll bet you have the best view of all.

 

Nov 17, 2016

Today is not a good day.
I want to be with him… but I can’t.
My soul is aching.

 

Nov 20, 2016

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.

All is well.
-Henry Scott Holland

 

Nov 20, 2016

I close my eyes and all I can see is you laying in that coffin; wearing your black suit and dark green tie that your Dad so carefully selected for you… your favorite ball cap lying on top of the closed portion of the casket, your St. Michael medallion draped carefully in your ice-cold hands.

I see your strong, beautifully perfect 20-year-old body ravaged by your addiction, and then decimated by the coroner’s knife. Due to the circumstances of your death, a full autopsy was required… it destroyed you. Your face was stretched, your body bloated, your ears pinned back to hide the sutures. Since your eyes were closed, we could see how your beautiful long eyelashes had started to fall out from your drug use. I’m glad your eyes were closed, though. Your Dad and I would not have been able to handle seeing the sparkle and light gone from your gorgeous blue eyes.

I close my eyes and these are the things I see. I fall asleep crying every single night. I still don’t understand how it is that my precious baby boy is gone. I still don’t understand why you had to make that last phone call… why you had to push that vile drug into your vein one last time. I still wonder if you trusted your dealer. Did you assume your Heroin was pure? Did it ever occur to you that it could have been dirty and cut with Fentanyl? Did you know what that dosage would do to you after being clean for almost a month? Were you afraid of dealing with your addiction for the rest of your life? I know you weren’t afraid of death. Did you still believe that you could handle anything? Do you see now how very wrong you were?

Can you feel our anguish… our unending pain?

 

Nov 27, 2016

It’s the emptiness that overwhelms me. All of the things that “will never be”; Hugs, smiles, the twinkle in his eye when he was up to something, the sound of his voice and his laughter, holidays, Grandchildren, random messages…

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