This Journey

This Journey

This journey is thus far at times, (for lack of words to describe it), ‘kickin my butt!’  Even though there are many days where my daily path is good, or at least as good as it can be at this point of my life…there are still days where I truly feel I am back at the beginning of this journey.  Each day that has passed since that horrible day last weekend has taken my emotions back in time.  Don’t get me wrong, I am doing ok…managing to push many of the negative feelings aside…but still there are moments in each day where I just want to scream, “My son is dead!  Help me, I have fallen and I can’t get up!”  Do you suppose any one would listen?  Do you think anyone cares?  My answer would be, “No, hell no.”  Oh, there will be some individuals who will genuinely care, but for the most part…you would see people scatter the same way ants would if you dropped a rock onto their colony.  You know prior to last weekend I really thought I was doing better…actually…I am doing far better than a year ago, but I now realize this grieving process has no rules.  It takes you wherever it wants you to go.  It is as though you are on a wild carnival ride and midway through the ride you decide you want off…unfortunately you can’t get off because the ride continues through whatever motions it was set to do.  This grieving is pretty much the same way.  I am stuck on this ride…going through the motions.   It leads me, and like a beaten old dog, I bow down when struck. 

Quite honestly on an average day whether alone, at work, with family or friends…or whatever I am doing, I have been going through most days as if in a fog…almost as though I am numb to this life I am living…numb…to everything around me.  And this body I use to do my daily functions just goes through the motions as would a robot that has been programmed to perform certain daily rituals or tasks.  I cannot tell you how many times I have been driving and catch myself not paying attention.  You know…to the road or anything else associated with driving.  Not the other vehicles, not the speed limit, stop signs…when I catch myself in this way I try to be cognizant about where I am and where I am going.  I have found lately I often end up driving much further than where I needed to go simply because I am driving in a fog.  It scares me to think about the stop signs I did not stop at because I simply did not see them, or the red lights I drove through because I didn’t recognize them as being red.  My mind wonders so many times during the day back to memories of Jeff, good memories as well as the bad memories.  

Work has been good because it keep me focused on something other than Jeff…most of the day anyway.  And working on the Memorial Garden has been good as well, because it gets me out of ‘my corner,’ and is giving me a purpose to devote myself to.  I do however, still go to my corner if I am not busy in my garden, and will sit there for hours.  I have not said this out loud before, but truth be told, I almost feel worse this year than I did last year…of course I am not talking about the early days after Jeff’s passing.  There will never again be anything that can compare to those days. 

I found this short article apply named, ‘How to survive the Death of Your Child.’

”Throw out the timetable. There is no timetable to your grieving process. Every individual is just that: an individual. Bereaved parents may experience many of the same emotions and difficulties; however, each parent's journey is different depending on personality and life circumstances.  For years, we relied on the popular notion that people progress through five stages of grief that begin with denial and end with acceptance. The new thinking is that there is no series of steps to be completed in the grieving process. Instead, people experience a "grab bag" of feelings and symptoms that come and go and eventually lift.  Scientists learned that many people accept the death of a loved one right from the beginning and report more yearning for the lost individual than feelings of anger or depression. For many, the numbness begins to wear off after the first anniversary of your child's death, and then true reality can hit very hard. Many parents say that the second year is the most difficult.”

According to this article…the second year can be most difficult!  This article makes me feel better because I at times feel like I have taken a step back with my emotions.  I have done much research on the subject of parents losing children…young children, adult children, and of course I have done research on losing an only child.  I like the research I do, primarily because it validates my thoughts, my emotions, and my state of mind.  I already know if I search long enough I can validate every single thought known to man…but for now I only want results that can have a positive effect on my own ability to cope with this nightmare.  I feel I am not depressed…at least not as I once was…but I truly do miss Jeff.  More than anything I miss my son’s voice, his advice, his laughter.  I miss the smile on the other end of the phone.  Don’t forget, my son and I lived miles apart, and we therefore made the best out of our relationship.  The phone was our connection.  I miss talking to Jeff…oh, don’t get me wrong, I still talk to him all the time…only I am the only one talking.  And answering. 

This article goes on to say, “Initially, memories will hurt you to your core, even the good ones, but at some point that will begin to change, and you'll come to cherish those memories. They'll bring a smile to your face and joy to your heart.”  I think I have come to this point…or rather somewhere in between…because although I cherish the memories I have, those same memories can also hurt like hell.  As I have mentioned before…nights for me are worse than any other part of the day.  I find myself up and down quite a bit during the night.  When at home alone I average four, maybe five hours sleep.  I don’t mean four or five hours in a row…I mean I sleep an hour here and an hour there.  I may be up for half the night before I fall asleep.  Or I may sleep a couple hours and wake for a couple hours and then sleep another hour before I have to get up.  And on a good night I may sleep six hours straight.   

“Get plenty of sleep. For some parents, all they want to do is to sleep. Others find themselves pacing the floors at night and staring blankly at the TV. The death of a child takes an extreme toll on the body.”  My sleeping routine needs a whole lot of adjusting…but for now it is what it is.  These days, I take what I can get.  I try to stay in bed hoping to fall asleep but that doesn’t always happen.  I sometimes am awake all night and then am a zombie during the day.  I do understand a good night sleep is needed to maintain excellent health, but it is also good for that relaxed feeling one gets from sleeping straight through the night.  These days I get that exuberant feeling if I can sleep five or six hours straight! 

I have deliberately been staying away from hard alcohol, and am deliberately trying not to over indulge in my consumption of beer.  I can see how easy it would be to just stay drunk…just to forget about your feelings.  I do understand why many parents turn to drugs or alcohol to numb their pain.  It would be too easy to become an alcoholic or drug addict when you are in this state of emotional pain.  “While it's understandable that you may want to blot out the memory of your child's death, excessive use of alcohol and drugs can aggravate depression and create a whole new set of problems to deal with.”  We are already under enough emotional up and down emotions so why add to that by bringing in more problems to yourself and or to your family.

“Re-evaluate your relationships if they become hurtful.”  Man oh man, did I find out how fast people disappear when one loses a child.  It is almost like they don’t want you to infect their own children.  I have found out the hard way even lifelong friends will find it is too hard to talk to me, to call me, to face me, to confront me about my loss, even after all these months that have gone by...still they don't call.  The sad thing is we don’t have to talk about Jeff…there are so many things to talk about.  Hell, why can’t  we talk about the things we talked about prior to Jeff’s death?  Maybe it is just as hard for others after losing Jeff as a friend…they cannot even fathom the emotions I go through, so rather than find out they simply stay away.  In the beginning of this journey this, more than anything, this was almost as hard as the initial loss for me…this ‘Secondary’ loss of friends and family.   As time goes by I am getting better at this...I still get hurt by the absence of everyone’s old friendship…but I am trying to understand.   

“Host a memorial gathering.  At a time that feels right to you, invite friends and loved ones to a party or dinner in honor of your child.”  These are my plans for the Memorial Garden.  I hope to have an open house so we can all share memories, stories, pictures, and fun times we all had with Jeff and with Steve.     
http://www.wikihow.com/Survive-the-Death-of-Your-Child