Accepting

I was the youngest child for both my parents, and the only child between them.  I had the benefits of growing up in a large family and being the only child at the same time.  I was closer to one brother than all other siblings.  He was 10 years older than I am and wasn't only a brother but also a protector. My father died when I was just eight from complications from alcoholism during the he and my mother were going through a divorce.
I remember the exact moment and location and vividly remember all the items around me when I was told my father had died.  I was his only girl so there was extra special bonding there.  He was perfect, far from it.  In fact I would even say part evil.  However, the true him was kind, generous, and loving.  The alcoholic him was pure evil.  I remember going to the funeral home and picking out the casket, or listening as it was all being done.  It was my first real experience in a funeral home.  I look back on it and wish someone would have realized that as an eight year old child, I needed guidance.  What do you do at a funeral home?  How do you act at a funeral home?  Why does everyone come to a funeral home?  I am a child and it will be ok.....
I remember the visitation and the funeral.  I remember the heart shaped pillow with the word Daddy in gold that held flowers that they had me plane in his casket.  That pillow was given to me as a keep sake.  Still not sure why I have it but it is tucked away in my cedar chest.  I also remember the grave side service and wondering why all this was going on.  I am eight!  I was in second grade.  None of this made any sense.
I never dealt with those emotions because it was never explained to me what they were.  I worried about my mother a lot growing up and never really visited friends houses or "ran around" with them. In my teen years I went wild for a short period of time which was far out of character for me to do. I was the good kid.  Well that got me into counseling at the school and lots of things came out that had been bottled up for years.  Honestly?  It was the best thing that could have happened to me.
A few years later I would lose my grandfather.  He had been ill for years after suffering a stroke and depended completely on his family to provide care for him.  We all took shifts helping him with everything from using the commode to bathing and getting dressed.  He would cry each time I helped because he felt he was a burden to his family.  But truth is, he deserved all we did and more.  I had visited him just hours before he passed and he seemed fine.  I lived just an hour away and by the time I had reached home the phone was ringing.  He had already been transported by ambulance to the hospital, and had passed after my grandmother asked him if he was in pain and he said, "not any more".    The funeral in the days following was emotional.  We were losing my grandfather and my brother and sister-in-law were expecting a baby and would find out the gender that day.  A boy was to be born.
A little more than a year later, I am engaged to be married and prior to that wedding our family was struck by tragedy.  That baby boy would be taken from us days before he turned a year old.  He was a feisty little guy and brought joy to everyone around him.  He took a tumble off the bed and landed on a hard wood floor.  I don't know a baby that hasn't had a tumble that scared the pudding out of the parents but this was different.  That sweet baby laid in the hospital trying with all his might to make it, but that wasn't meant to be.  I still struggle with his death because it just isn't fair.  The only answer I can come up with is God needed him, but why?  Why do that to my family?  Why do that to his parents and siblings?  Why?  Ultimately, this loss put a great strain on the family.  In fact throughout the years it has built the Great Wall of Grief between my sister-in-law and my mother.  That too brings pain to many of us in the family.  In fact outside of Jared's funeral last summer, I can't remember the last time they were in the same building together.  I know how it pains me, I can't imagine how it pains my brother.
What pained me then, and still does for different reasons now, is that I didn't know how to support them.  I didn't know the loss they were feeling.
We honored my nephew on our wedding ceremony and made him a part of the event.  To this day I keep his picture on my dresser.
Since that time his siblings have grown and have children of their own and we talk about their brother Jacob.  I think of him often as he must have been there to greet Jared into heaven.
After suffering the loss of Jared I have had a new understanding of loss.  I understand that even very young children grieve and they need the grieving process to be explained to them and what they are experiencing.  I have learned that even when we look strong, we are incredibly weak.  I have learned that we will change emotionally, physically, and spiritually.  I have learned that actions can be explained but not necessarily justified.  I have learned that I can love two people who can't seem to look at one another and not judge them.  I have also learned that we become uncensored with loss.  If you ask us our opinion, please be prepared for the answer.  I have learned that compassion doesn't mean that I have to let you drag me into a dark place.  I have also learned that no matter how much you love someone, you can't stop things from happening.  I could not stop by dad from drinking, my grandfather from aging, my nephew from from having injuries that could not be healed, my mother and sister-in-law to get along, nor could I save my son from suicide.
While I do not like to accept any of these things, I must.  I must also accept all the other things in life that played into of the paths that brought us all to where we are today.
My wish is for peace, understanding, and a world without pain.  Is that really too much to ask for?

It Is Time To Stand Up

This last week has been difficult for me.  I have had emotional highs and lows.  I have been short tempered and easily agitated.  I have watched as children head back to school and off to college.  Somehow it is more difficult this year than it was last year.  Perhaps because I was still in that fog that helps to protect us following a tragedy.  All of these beautiful pictures and wonderful thoughts and hopes I have for these young people quickly prompt thoughts of those experiences I will never have.

I have to live with the fact that I will never have a child walk across a stage to get his diploma he worked so hard for all those years to get.  I will never have that child go off to college and be a part of a dream he had.  I will never have a wedding to be the mother of the groom nor will I ever have grandchildren.  All these things I looked forward to and even envisioned.

I have had anger that has been intense.  Anger at people who say they are dying inside and physically hurt because their child has left for college.  While I won't deny there are grief feeling there for them, they will see their child again.  They will talk, text, video chat, visit, and celebrate life with that child.  Those who have lost a child never again get that.  While their pain inside is temporary, ours is permanent.  It also intensifies, or flares up, when we learn of another Angel Parent joining this club that we don't want to be a part of to begin with.

I want to be selfish.  I want to be irresponsible.  I want to pretend life is not how it really is.  But then, I remember, it is exactly the way it is.

This is a difficult place to be.  I want so badly to have a close friend that understands and is there when I need them, but I don't want to bring anyone down.  I have friends who have the same loss I do and it is a gentle place we go together as to support rather than pull each other down.  I have struggled with wanting to live here, live there, where do I want to live.  There is no good answer for any of it.

I want desperately to have the life back I once had.  But that can never be.  I want so desperately for a miracle to happen, but doesn't seem to be either.

Anger has been hitting me from another angle.  It is extreme and volatile.  While I have fought within myself to not blame or hate, it is brewing within me.  How DARE people tell my child the crap they told him.  How DARE people behave the way they did, text him, email him the things they did and call me names to him that he then had to deal with.  How DARE you tell him you were going to take him away from me so he "don't have to ever see her" again.  HOW DARE YOU!

So with this anger comes strong focus and determination.  I will stand up to you, evil, and stigma associated with Jared, suicide, and mental health issues.

My son would be here today had it not been for people telling him he should hate me and live with them.  He would be here today if it were not for people telling him he would live in his Dad's house, drive his Dad's car, and wear his Dad's clothes.  He would be here today if people were not so damn selfish they had to control everything in their life instead of being a part of an amazing young man's dream.

Jared's answer to your selfishness was if I can't love and be with my mom, I won't love and be with you either.  Hate is a destructive thing, but I refuse to hate anyone.  Even the people responsible for telling Jared not to get treatment, take his medication as a child, and to hate me.  Why?  Because they don't deserve my time.  I will tell Jared's story, all of it, with facts, and evidence.