The love between a mother and son is simply not like any other love. I remember the psychology classes in college and studying Freud who said it is a sexual attraction that makes father and daughters close and mother and sons close. While I don't completely agree with his theory I tend to believe that as mothers we try to show our sons what we look for in a man so they will be the perfect man for a future wife. We want compassion, large heart, tender hands, warm hugs. Well maybe I am alone in this, but I dont think so.
As I learn of more and more suicides and learn about each of them, I hear over and over. ... They never knew a stranger. .... life of the party. ... funny. ... huge heart. I realize they mask their hurt with the happy personality they put upfront.
I used to think those that died by suicide were selfish. I have learned it simply isn't true. In fact it is the opposite. See they are trying to protect the ones they love. They justify suicide by convincing themselves it is beneficial to their loved ones. For those who are not in the deep valley of darkness it seems nonsensical. However, those who get to that place have a near impossible task of seeing things any other way.
Today was a hard afternoon for me. I experienced another grief attach. I realized this afternoon that I am approaching the two month mark. I thought to myself how proud I was because I was healing enough that I am not consuming myself with hours, days, weeks, months since he left. I have been preparing myself for days to start back in on going through Jared's bathroom and closet. OK Deb you are strong you can do this. THE TOWEL. ... that damn towel. There it hangs just as Jared left it. So I turned to the caddy that held bandaid and toilet paper. No problem put those items away since this bathroom will now only be used for the office many things are not needed in there any longer. I then took a deep breath and removed the toothpaste tube from the sink. Hung a wreath from his school here up. Rearranged some wall art. AND THEN. ... YEP the towel. I smelled it as I do nearly every day. The smell is fading but it is there. I began to cry. I then took an even deeper breath and pulled it down. .... yep I lost it. ... flood gates of tears opened. After several minutes I composed myself enough to refold the still unwashed towel and hang it on the towel bar. I then opened the shower curtain the rest of the way open and gather shampoo, face cleaner, and body wash after disposing of the folded up bandaid left in the corner of the tub. As I carried the items across the house to the master bath to put them away, it hit. I couldn't call out to Rich nor could I physically carry myself to him to be held. I was able to get to the step next to the whirlpool to sit. There was a towel I had sat out on the tub and I used it to cry into and wipe the tears as they fell. I had already soaked my shirt with tears. My sinuses opened and I began to choke and hyperventilate. After what seemed to be an eternity, Rich came to check on me. He helped to calm me and get me to the sofa. I talked with him for well over an hour. I asked him if he would sit with me in the office tonight as I continued working on things. He agreed and he helped with many items. With his support and assistance I was able to get through quite a bit more.
Remember to light a candle for the beautiful people who have been lost to suicide on September 10th.
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