Grief's journey

When your child dies you just want to curl up in a ball and cease to exist, even if you appear to be doing fine.  You think it's horrible, unfair and wrong that the world keeps turning and people go about their business.  Eventually though, maybe years down the road, the sheer momentum of the world drags you along with it and you get up and starting doing things again.  Eventually, you start enjoying things again. Sometimes you enjoy them without wondering when the other shoe will drop.

There are those that say I can't call Jeremy my son.  They don't know the relationship and connection we had.  He is the son of my heart.  My heart stopped beating when his stopped beating.  Then I knew that I had to be strong for everyone else, even his mother.  His mother never thought I should have a relationship with him and she definitely didn't want him to love me.  So I made up my mind right then in that little room at UNM hospital that I would be strong.  I would be the epitome of Christ's love to Jeremy's mom.  I pushed my grief aside and went into action.  And she seemed to appreciate it.  She accepted my hugs and offers of help.  I made sure that I didn't spend too much time in the funeral home chapel with Jeremy.  I only lost control and cried once.  I prayed that Jeremy didn't have to die just so these two families could get along.  Of course, over time (a rather short period, sadly) things changed and I was the enemy again.

Also in that little room I made the decision to be strong for Bo.  I knew he would feel guilt over Jeremy's childhood.  I knew that he already felt that he didn't satisfy his role as a father like he wanted to.  Much of that was beyond his control.  Much of that was because of a mother-centered court system and a women who would cajole and lie in court to keep "her" kids away from their father.  Some of it was Bo's short comings.  Every parent has short comings.  I'll say that again..."every parent has short comings".  Every parent makes mistakes and usually at least one of them is pretty big and has lasting effects on the child.  I pray that someday Bo will be healed and realize that he was a good dad and that Jeremy loved him.

I was strong for Ben, but he didn't seem to want any help and kept insisting he was fine.  I cringe when I think about what my 11 year old son went through alone because I couldn't figure out how to help him.  I thank God for the people in his life that helped him through that time.

I put aside all the baggage and trauma about Amber.  I determined to be there for her and I was.  She even seemed to trust me and we began to get close.  Then out of the blue I was the enemy again.  That grieves me horribly.  I pray that our relationship will be restored.  I pray that she will be healed.

Ironically, my biggest act of compassion, to be strong for everyone else, was a big mistake.  It appeared  that I didn't care.  It appeared to Ben that there is no time for grief and that you must just move on.  But worse of all, it appeared to Bo that I didn't need him.  I needed him desperately.  I prayed every night for God to take me home.  I drove a little too fast.  I didn't pay attention to mixing medicines with alcohol.  I wasn't suicidal; I just didn't care to do anything to keep myself healthy and/or alive.  I set a break-neck pace for my life between Ben's activities and my work and volunteer activities. I thought the business would push it all away. Then God placed on my heart what would happen to Ben and Bo and the rest of my family if I died.  He showed me how devastating that would be, especially so close to Jeremy's death.

I didn't feel better immediately, but I quit praying to die and took more care. I began thanking God for my life; for each and every day.  It's been 4 years since then.  I still get tired of this life and just wish it would all end.  Will that ever quit?  Will I ever be happy again?  Will Bo?  Will my family?  Will we ever be a family again?  Will I ever quit thinking that every happy moment must be paid for with tragedy?  I have hope now.  I know that God is with me every step of this journey.  I know that he has plans for me; if he didn't I'd be dead.  I know that God doesn't want me to be miserable.  I know that I can't control anything in this world.  It is all in God's hands.  I know I feel better about things when I quit trying to take my problems back from God.  I thank God for my depression and anxiety.  Without it I could never have understood that it is really all in His hands.