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| Steve and Jeff |
1) A person does not have to be physically dead, to be dead. Your heart does not have to stop beating to be dead, I know...because I too, died on March 11, 2013.
2) The second thing I learned when Jeff died...you don't have to be physically dead for God to send you to hell. Because the second I learned of Jeff's passing I was thrown directly into the throes of hell. Believe me...I am still walking above ground, eating, sleeping, I still take in air...and I am most definitely in the pits of hell!
When I decided to write about Jeff's death, I realized it is not just about Jeff's death....it is about everything...everything. All the loss prior to Jeff passing, the words that come out of people's mouths when they are trying to help you, the different phases of grieving, suicidal thoughts (which do not necessarily mean you are going to kill yourself), anger/doubts in my faith, sitting in a corner, and the list goes on and on and on. I decided to write primarily to educate...you, my audience. This is not about poor Olgie...no pity party here...nor do I want any pity in responses. There are so many things that happen before a person dies, there are so many things that happen after a person dies...so many emotional feelings that get misconstrued by family or friends. So much anger taking place both before someone dies and after they die. In the process of writing my thoughts, my memories, I want you to walk in my shoes...if only for a moment...don't judge. Please don't think..."If it was me I would"...because none of us know what we would do. We are all different. Each one of us has a different make up, background, ethnicity, faith, upbringing, etc., which will definitely make us all react differently. Oh, don't get me wrong...Jeff's death is far more devastating than any I had lost before, including my husband, siblings, my best friend. When I think back at the pain I endured after losing my husband (Steve), and now the loss of my son...there is no comparison. There are no words to convey the emotional pain I now suffer. Do you know how many times I prayed for my son? Can you just imagine the anguish a mother feels when God did not answer her prayers? I now question God's intention? I hope to find my own answers to these questions...perhaps I can heal in these writings.
People have told me countless times, "Olgie, Jeff is in a better place. He is with God." Really? And they know this how?
I am not questioning why God did this to me...although there was a time when I questioned it. I now demand answers from God...why Jeff? Why not take the guy who sells drugs? Why not take the pervert down the road? Why not take the husband who beats his spouse, or his children? You know these people...they are in all our neighborhoods. It doesn't matter your social economic level...these same people are still in your neighborhood. How many times did I ask for God's help? Why did he allow Jeff to suffer? I need answers. I don't ask for his help anymore. Why should I? I can't even remember when I stopped praying...when did I stop praying? Where is God now? Where was he before Jeff died....and where is Jeff? I keep asking this question. Where are you baby? Where are you? I walk around my house asking aloud, "Where are you baby?" I go to the cemetery and I ask, "Where are you baby?" Is he in heaven? Is he is hell? No he is not in hell...I am in hell! Is he wondering around as a spirit...watching me, crying with me? Where is Jeff?
This is how my devastation began....
It was 4:00am Saturday morning March 9th...I laid in bed sobbing. "Please God, don't take him," I prayed. I called Tina, my step-daughter sobbing.
The moment she heard my voice she said, "What is wrong?"
"Jeff is going to die."
"Oh my God, Did you talk to him? What did he say?" She asked.
"Nothing, I just know. He is going to die. I'm going to lose my son." I sobbed
"Olgie, you don't know that. Did he say anything?"
We talked nearly two hours, me sobbing the entire time. She trying to console me. I told her we needed to pray for Jeff...right there on the phone we both prayed for Jeff.
Later that same day my friend Lana phoned me...again I broke down and started sobbing. I told Lana about my fears of losing my son. I couldn't give her a reason why but I knew deep down I would lose him soon. Lana had been my friend for many years. She stayed by my side when I lost my best friend Robin, and she stayed by my side when I lost my husband.
The next morning I was with Dwaine, my friend/companion. My phone rang, it was Jeff.
"Good morning!"
"Hi Mom, what are you doing?"
"I'm here at Dwaine's, he is washing the truck, and then we are going to make bird houses for the yard. It is a beautiful day here...the first warm day of the year."
"Oh good," he said
"You sound good baby, no pain today?"
"Yeah, I feel pretty good."
"Oh good! Where is everyone?"
"The family is out at the property feeding the horses. I'm glad you are having a good day Mom. I'm gonna let you go so you can enjoy your day. I'll call you later. I love you," he said.
"OK Sweetheart, I love you too"
The second I hung up the phone I busted out in uncontrollable sobs. Dwaine came to me, "What happened?"
Again through my sobs I told Dwaine of my fears of losing Jeff. I knew in my heart that very day...Jeff would not live much longer. I prayed like I had never prayed before. Please God help him! Please do not take him from me!
"I love you"...those were the last words my son said to me. He died the next morning. Where the hell was God? Why did he not answer my prayers?
I console myself with Jeff's texts messages: 'I love you Mom, I just wanted you to know.' 'G'morning I just want you to know I love you.' 'I hope this doesn't wake you. I was just thinking about you and want you to know I love you.' This was my son, knowing he was in his last days..he wanted nothing more than to make sure his mother knew he loved her.
"I die the day you die." those are the words I told Jeff when he broke the news to me of his Parkinson Disease diagnosis. When he told me of the diagnosis, his end of the phone went silent. How many more diseases was he going to be inflicted with. He had already been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, Ciliac Disease, Insomnia, Croans Disease, Oxygen depredation due to high pain levels, a degenerate back disorder, which disc fusions did nothing for, kidney failure, seizure disorders, and the list just goes on and on. I could hear defeat in his voice...Jeff knew his body finally won the struggle within. Did he suffer...oh yes!
"Listen to me," I said. "The day you die, I die...and I plan to live to be 100 years old."
He gave me a little giggle and said, "Oh really?"
"Yep, that's right. Suck it up baby," and then I added, "whatever it takes. So that means you are just going to have to figure out a way to make it to 78 years old. That way I can make it to be 100."
"Mother, I already feel like I am 78 years old. If I actually live that long I will be feeling like I'm 230 years old or something!" He laughed. But I knew deep down he is was silently crying. I was on the other end of the phone, also crying silently that day...and countless days before and after.
How much more can one man take? God had taken every last shred of health from him. With all the pain Jeff had endured, God had given him one more test. Even though it was not spoken aloud...we both knew this was one test Jeff would not pass. It was never said, not by me nor by Jeff, this disease would kill him. We both knew it.
I now cry in silence every day. And truth be told...I died with Jeff that day.
I don t have the strength to loose a child.
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