Changes

Tim’s birthday is coming up on July 25th. So many memories trying to crowd each other out. They laid this little tiny bundle in my arms and again my life changed. I had a 5 year old daughter waiting for us at home and she had already changed my life. Both of my babies changed my life for the better. I had two little ones who loved me unconditionally, and I loved them the same. They were my world and all that I was circled their orbits every second of every day. Then they grew up and went away and that love never changed but I did.

We go through so many changes when we have new jobs, move to different towns, start new lives. We change when our babies grow up. But nothing, nothing in this world causes change as much as when our flesh, our babies die. I cannot say if we change for the better or worse or laterally. When we say we died the day our child died, it is not a euphemism, it is a fact. The person we were before they died, died with them. The change is abrupt and complete. It is also a shock to us, but we are already in the deepest shock of our lives so it goes unnoticed.

The shock eventually eases a little, but the world around us no longer makes any sense. The people we knew are different in our eyes. We see more than we want to because we have become hyper-sensitive to everything. We have to start building new ‘us,’ while others are waiting for us to go back to who we were. That person is dead and few understand that. Our grief is now a permanent part of our lives. No matter what we do, how we are, what we say, the sorrow of lose will never go away. We learn to hide it, because it becomes private, ours alone. There will be good days and bad days and maybe the time will come that you have more good than bad. But even on a good day, the grief is there, in the background, always a reminder.

In the long run, we rebuild ourselves. We can learn to live quality lives, good lives for the sake of our loss and those still with us, as long as they accept that we are not who we once were. Change is hard. Violent change is horrible., but we can survive. In the beginning, survival is not what we want, and some days, the bad days, we could just as easy go as it is to stay. It takes a strong will to survive those days. We have to learn to accept the changes in ourselves. We have to learn to live with our loss. We have to rebuild our live even as we don’t want to. So much, so very much to deal with. If I could, I would take your pain and put it in a jar that could never be opened. I will cry on his birthday. I will remember his birth to his death and I will want to be alone and not alone. It’s so hard to accept this life and changes, but I will work at it, day after day. With deep love and compassion, ‘Forever Mom.’

 

Advertisements

First Moment

1013437_645447075497211_967126765_nWhen we lose those we love, we come to realize how precious each day is. We know now that life can end in a moment. There are days that we truly wish it would end because the pain is all too real. That day, it is the first moment day. The first moment we realize they are gone pain. Even after 4 1/2 years, I still have those day. The pain is so intense I wonder how I am still standing. I wonder how no one sees the waves of sorrow pouring from my body. How can they not feel it?

You almost explode on that day. Nothing matters or makes sense. You need to go with it. No matter how hard that is to do, let it out. Cry, scream, run, create,whatever works for you. Don’t hold it in, it will only be worse if you do. I know this pain and sorrow only too well. I live it everyday, every moment. I have become slowly housebound. Every where I go, I see my son. We have lived in the area forever, so there is hardly anywhere that he had not been. It is hard to be here at home sometimes because this is where he came to die.

The night I found him dead will be forever burned in my mind. His lips were already blue, yet, he looked so peaceful. I wanted to wake him up, to look at me and say what he had the night before, “I love you, mom.” I started to reach out to touch him, to wake him while I screamed his name, over and over. My husband stopped me from touching him, he did not want me to have the memory of his cold skin. He drug me from the room not letting me back in until the police came to guard the room for the coroner. I remember that night too well and the days to come.

With all that, I learned to push the images to the back of my mind but on those days, those horrible, first moment days, it’s all there. The days do not come as often as they did,but I know that if I hit a trigger, it will come bursting out. Triggers!!! A word, a look, something on TV. There are many things that can trigger your moment. We learn about these triggers pretty fast and try to avoid them. That’s what we do. There are a lot of things we learn when our child dies and most of it is not pretty. That is part of why we have changed and are no longer the person we were. It is not caused only by the death of our child, it is also the people we knew, or thought we knew. Oh how painful it all was.

Ah yes, the people you knew. Most of them will be gone. It’s like they are afraid that your child’s death is catching. They figure that they will come back when you are yourself again and have gotten over your loss. They want you to be who you once were, they don’t understand how you could still be grieving. You are a new person forged by fire, put back together, piece by piece with some pieces missing. You now have triggers, PTSD and you see people for who they are. It’s a shock to realize that some family and friends could be so harsh and cold hearted. By then, they no longer have a place in your life. That moment made you and only those who stayed grew with who you became.

PTSD!!! It is not only for soldiers, although I believe theirs are worse. Regardless, we get it when we find our child dead. Loud noises, sudden movements of others. The list goes on. In time, the PTSD becomes less, but I think it is a lifetime thing. I still start at sudden loud noises. My friend was in a bank robbery and it caused PTSD. It messed her up so bad and nobody gets that. So it is not just the loss of a loved one that can cause it. We battle that with the depression, the triggers, the sorrow. Yeah, we have been forged in the fire in more ways then one. Now it is up to you to become the person you want to be. You are brand new.

As you pick up the pieces of your life, you will find some pieces missing. Those went with the one you love. Your heart is broke, but you mend what you can. You either end it all or you learn to live with it. It can be done, but it’s up to you to do it. I decided to end it all. To live without my son was just plain unthinkable, unimaginable, too painful. I could not function, could not quit crying, could not live. My husband and daughter saved me. If not for those two, it would have been so easy. They saw the signs of what was coming, which surprised me as I thought I hide them so well. I hope there is someone with you that sees the signs.

I started painting on canvases, trying to create beauty in the world again. They are not that good, but they were good therapy. I went from that to online Karaoke and making jewelry and Trees of Life and I think they are good and it helps so much when that moment hits me. Sometimes, I sit by a river or lake, or in the forest and I hear and see the beauty that was not created by man. It soothes the sorrow for a while. Find something to fill the void for a little while until you get past that moment. Learn to laugh again, it’s okay to do that. Do the things you want to do, not the things others want or expect of you. Learn to live again. With love and compassion, “Forever Mom.”

The Meaning of Life

I asked the earth, “What is the meaning of life?” and then sat down and listened quietly, and then here is what the earth said to me. Look up and see the stars that hang without help in the sky, see the sun that shines down and travelers quietly. Love the moon that is always there even when it hides shyly. See the flowers that bloom every year and the trees that unfurl their leaves. Touch the ground where you sit and again, listen to it quietly.  Remember the dreams you had as a child and a child you will be. Do these things and then ask yourself, what does life mean to me.

Smell the wonder of the grass being cut, and laughter that comes on the breeze. The wonderful smell of a barbeque as family and friends gather to share their love freely. Do you remember climbing up into a tree house and looking far out sea, for the waves that rock your pretend boat, someday a pirate you will be? The dolls that became part of your life, each one with a name. The moments of glee as you ride your bike, racing down into the ravine. Your friends chasing after you, who will win this race, you or they? What does life mean to you?

There are hard times, and oh, there are bad. There are times that the tears will flow for all that you had. The loss of someone so special to you changes who you are. No longer do you dream the dreams of life for you have become lost in your sorrow. You forget about being a pirate, or the fun of childhood. You forget that there are still wonders in this world for all is lost to you. Telling you that not all is gone, you will not believe me. But in time you will see, what life means to you.

Listen to the wind as it flows through the trees and sings it’s lonely songs, you will hear all about the travels that the wind has done. You will feel it on your skin as it caresses you and then it travels on. The sun will shine down on you to warm the coldness of your skin, the moon will shine and remind you, that love and life will come again. Learn to dream the dreams of a child and become a child who climbed trees and played Cowboys and Indians, who dressed their dolls every day to match what you wore. Then ask yourself, what does life mean.

Our hearts will be forever broken, yet I still feel the breeze on my face. Tears will flow like a waterfall and the sun will dry them all. There will be times when we fall to the ground, the pain too much to bear. Yet our ear is to the earth and maybe, there are some answers there. Yes, we will always hurt, but we learn to live with it most of the time. So listen to the wonders of our world that was not made by mans hand. And ask yourself, what is the meaning of life? Love you all that share my pain for we are in this together. “Forever Mom.”

 

 

I’m Still Here

It is almost 4 years now that my son died. It seems like a lifetime. Sometimes, I look at his picture and it becomes yesterday for a little while.  Yesterday, when I could hug him, tell him how much I love him and look into his sweet blue eyes. So much has happened after losing him and yet, I am still here. There were times I wondered if I would be for much longer, after all, everyone dies eventually. The reasons for dying are all their own. I think it is the one thing we cannot find an answer for so it causes us more pain.

My oldest brother died a couple of weeks ago. For me, it was so sudden that it left me totally shocked. Not him. He was so strong, self-assured about his life. He lived the life he chose and as far as I know, he was content, happy. So, why? I don’t know about his life the last three years, but I heard it was good. I feel sad that I was not there to share or be a part of it. Still, he was happy. He loved his family, worked hard, played hard and now he is gone. Pancreatic Cancer. I think it hit him like an exploding volcano. What I feel is not near the same as the pain for my son, but that does not mean it is not a deep pain. I had cancer last year and here I am. I am still here. So why him and not me? Am I feeling sorry for myself? Oh yeah, you bet I am. He will see my son before I do. When they operated on me, my heart stopped in the middle of surgery. They massage it back to life. I didn’t know about it until a few days later and my first thought was why didn’t they just let me go. I have come a long way from that day.

Now, I search for things that bring me joy or make me happy. I started out painting pictures. They brought me a touch of happiness, but not enough. After a few months, I joined an online Karaoke and found that I loved to do that but it was not what I was looking for. I wanted to create beauty. The painting and singing had their own kind of beauty, but they were not what I was looking for. Then one day, I pulled out my old beading kits. I have found the joy I was looking for. It surprised me that it helped fill my heart. Now, I will start a web page for my jewelry and sell it so others can have beauty in their lives. I create. Oh wow. I create. There are necklaces, anklets, bracelets and soon earrings and it brings me great joy that I created them and one-day others will wear them.

It took me a long time and a lot of hits and misses, but I found something that can bring me joy. The sadness and pain will always be there inside my broken heart. But we learn to live with it. In the beginning, we can do nothing but want to die with those we love. Time is the only thing that can bring us a little further from the horror and loss. It is a long hard road full of holes and cracks ready to know you down over and over. Get up my friend, walk the road and search for some joy to help you through. Once you find it, it becomes a tribute to ones you lost. I am forever your friend and am here if you need me. Take that step my friends. With all my love, “Forever Mom.”

 

 

Photographs and Memories

I am now into my 4th year and I still want someone, anyone to tell me it was just a nightmare, that it never happened. The loss of my son weights heavy on my heart every day. Some days it is not as severe, but then there is the day that is as raw as it was the moment it happened. Those are the days that I cry most of the day and wonder why I am still here. Why did I not just drop dead when he did, why?

When I got my cancer diagnoses last year, it did not affect me or scare me. My thought was ‘well, what will be will be. When they told me my heart stopped on the operating table I only wondered why I did not sign the do not resuscitate. But I looked at those two who stood by my bed and knew why I was still here. I love them just as much as I love Tim. Each operation I had, my hope was that I would see him, talk to him, hug him. Did that happen? I don’t know. If it did it was wiped from my memory.

The meds they put me on does not fill the hole that is in my heart, nothing does, it will be there forever and a day. But they do help keep me on this earth. There are days when I just want to leave that note, the one that says how sorry I am to put them all through this again. On those days I have to breathe through it and find something, anything, to keep my mind from it. How horrible to do to them what was done to me. It would be selfish and cruel with the knowledge of what comes after. I know too much to put them through it too. Too much. For they already have holes in their hearts too.

My friend lost his son over 10 years ago and he still grieves severely. He understands what I am going through just as I understand him. The day he found his son I prayed that it never happened to me. I prayed every day that it would not. Then it did and I lost my faith in the goodness of god. There was no mercy. My friend still suffers but he is learning how to keep himself from following his son. We are in the same boat, he has been in it longer than I but we still ride the storm at the same pace. There are calm days and then there are stormy days. One has to learn to ride them out until they become calm again.

I write today because it is a stormy day. Nothing brought it on, it was suddenly there, a squall that was ready to tip the boat if I allow it to. I am not allowing it to. I let the tears come and accept that there will be days that they pour out like a faucet left on full blast. It is almost impossible to stop the tears. If someone just looks at you wrong, or what you feel is wrong, they will flow. If words come from someone be they kind or not, the tears may flow. On these days, the mind does not see the world or people or words in the same way.

4 years, such a long time yet so very short. A moment ago, my son said he loved me, just a moment ago, 4 years ago. People think one should be over the grief of losing their child. They have not lost one yet you see so they have no idea, No idea that child loss is forever. There will be no new memories, we hold on to the ones we have,  We have to forget the future we hoped for them, the happiness we wanted them to find. Now, we have photographs and memories. It that all that is left? Yeah, it is but it is better than nothing.

I have so much I want to tell his son and daughter, but they are young yet. I have to wait to tell them until they hit an age of understanding. Another reason to hold on to this world. I have many reasons to stay and one to go. It does not make my memories of him less or my love. So, for now, the tears have stopped and I thank all of you for that because I know you are seeing my words and wishing me the best. I will hold tight to those photographs and memories and love those around me. Much love to you all from a ‘Forever Mom.’

 

Counting Time

I no longer count this time in seconds, minutes, hours, days or month. I count it in years. It is three years today, Jan 5 that my son died. Nothing in the years to come will change that one fact or anything about that day. it will always be there, always be the same. My heart hurts as much now as it did that first moment of loss. I hope that one day, it will soften even just a little. On many days throughout the year, I try to be positive, I try not to dwell on he who is lost to me, but on this day, that is not possible. It is forever etched on my broken soul.

I see the amusing, loving and amazing little boy he was. The hard to handle teenager and the loving father to a wonderful little boy. There are still moments that it is hard to believe he is gone and never coming back. I can’t pretend otherwise for that path leads to greater pain. I hold the love I have for my husband, daughter and grandsons in front of me as a guiding light to get through my darkest hours. Most of the time, that is what keeps me alive, keeps me moving forward in a world missing one.

There are so many different emotions connected to grief that at times, one thinks they have always felt that way. It is hard to remember a time when the hurt did not lurk just below the surface. We don’t hold on to the pain because we want to. It holds on to us. To lose one so loved cannot be forgotten or laid to rest for we are left behind and we feel that everyday.

Many want to know how long the sorrow lasts. It could last forever. It depends all on you and how you are able to negotiate through this giant mine field. There are no easy answers or fixes, there are not even hard ones. Maybe that is why we feel we have been set adrift in a stormy sea without a paddle. No one can help us, it is ours and ours alone to survive or die. The one thing others can do, even three years or ten years or twenty years later is to give us shoulder to lean on for a little while. Words do not help but mostly cause immeasurable harm.

I hear Tim’s voice in my ear saying “I love you Mom.” And I have not doubt that he did. I whisper back, “I love and miss you Tim.” And he knows that is true. It is so damn hard to lose your child no matter what age they are. They have been a part of your life from conception until the day they die and even then, they stay a part of you. So many memories but they never seem to be enough, never enough. My life be gentle to you as you travel this road that so many have and will again. Love and Light… “Forever Mom.”

Stand Proud for America

Colin Kaepernick  you make me ashamed. Not ashamed of America, but ashamed that you get paid millions to be an ass. Yup, I said ass though I think of stronger words but I am not that type of person to say or write them. You blame all of America for problems that quite honestly, happen to all walks of life not just black lives. You must be blind not to see that we all have issues and are not blaming everyone in America for that is what it is, blaming everyone.

Kaepernick, take your millions and make a difference instead of whining on the side-lines of a football game that pays you more than you are worth. When you get into your expensive car do you think of those less fortunate? When you walk into your fancy home do you think of the homeless? When you eat in an upscale restaurant do you think of those who have no table or food to put on it if they do have one?

Yes, you have the right to stand or not stand but frankly, your reason for not doing so sucks. ALL LIVES MATTER, do you get that or do we have to shout louder? Really, show me a country that would treat you better. America is not perfect but it sure beats living in war torn countries who don’t care for any lives doesn’t it?

It is embarrassing to call you an American. We Americans, as a whole, stand proud regardless of your shameful display. I’ve known good cops and bad cops, good blacks and bad blacks, good whites and bad whites and the list goes on and I have never blamed all of American for the bad. Grow up and stand up for the country that helped you succeed. I am just a middle to lower class American citizen who loves football. You being a sh#t won’t change that. I will struggle to live today, tomorrow and probably next week but I will never blame America for my problems.

 

Previous Older Entries

My Journey:

Me and my daughters journey with a GATA2 deficiency, myelodysplasia, a bone marrow transplant and beyond..............

Lisa Weseman

Writer & Producer

Hiking Photography

Beautiful photos of hiking and other outdoor adventures.

Laura~LME

@LauraLME ~ @VersesInMotion ~ @VIMMedia ~ @DigitalDotWorld

The Best Books for your Kindle

We promote eBooks that don't suck

Kathleen's Writings & Art

Poetry, Art and Photography

ellisnelson

children's author

Sayed Sadat

WAY TO KABUL, Non fiction, My first memoir of my journey back to Afghanistan during the oppressive rules of the Taliban.

Nifty Energetic Nice Extrovert - NENE

My World, My Life, My Thoughts, My Way

The Bibliophile Chronicles: Mostly A Literary Blog

Francis Baraan On Books, Reading, Writing, Writers, Authors, & La Dolce Vita

weaklyshortstories

Just another WordPress.com site

cancer killing recipe

Just another WordPress.com site

To Be Aware

It's all about disbelieving your thoughts

Books, j'adore

story lovers unite

%d bloggers like this: