Sixth Anniversary of Jeff's Death
On March 11th, Jeff will have been gone for six
whole years…six years, and still, I sit with tears streaming down my cheeks. I just cannot believe he is forever gone and
I am stuck here on this f’kn world without him in my life. This grief, this sorrow, this solitude…is at
times more than I can handle. Last night
I woke up sobbing. I kept hearing noises
in my sleep, and was having trouble getting my breath as I slept. When I awoke…the noises I was hearing whilst asleep,
these unfamiliar sounds, unlike anything I had ever heard before…were coming
from me. Upon fully waking, and after
gathering my thoughts through the tears…the sorrowful noises I was hearing both
while I slept and in my waken state, were coming from the very pit of my being…I
was bawling uncontrollably…still mourning the loss of my son.
How is it possible, after all this time, I am still waking up to sorrow, and how is it possible six years after Jeff’s passing, I still wake crying out for my son? How many of you can possibly understand this sorrow, this absolute empty numbness inside of me? How many of you even care? With the anniversary of his death looming near, Jeff has been on my mind more than ever. I can’t help but think back to all the days which have gone by without him in my life. When I think back to how much his children have grown without their father in their lives it makes me sad. And the very thought that each day that goes by without Jeff in their lives is one day further that their memories of him will decrease little by little. Oh my, this is such a sad, sad thought.
I know in my heart of hearts that all these thoughts are normal…all this sorrow for one who has lost a child is normal…but those of you who have not lost a child, do you see this as normal? My guess is you do not understand. I remember when I went to my first ‘Compassionate Friends’ meeting I was completely distraught on the resent loss of my son. The Compassionate Friends is a ‘grief’ support group, made up of members who have lost children. I could not understand why these people who were running the grief meetings were still crying over their children...crying over children whom they had lost years before. I was deep in grief over Jeff’s death and I was angry that these people who were in charge of running the meetings, were still crying over the death of their children these many years later...now I know, oh yes, now I know…they like I, will never get over this loss. They like I, most likely still wake crying for the loss of their child. They like I, have over the years found that this death of a child, is such an enormously depressing emotion that will never go away.
How can this loss go away? It is unlike any other death. Over the last 12 years I have loss my best friend, my father, my mother, my surrogate mother, my brothers, my husband…yet, none of these losses can compare to losing Jeff…not a one of them. I know my friends have time and again thought ‘Just get over it, you’ve gotten over the others, what’s the difference?’ Little do they know…I truly hope they never know this heartache…I wish I had never known this heartache.
Upon Jeff’s death his children gave me a list of songs Jeff listened to frequently prior to his death, songs they wanted for his video…those songs;
Long Black Train, by Josh Turner
Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Israel IZ
Knocking on Heavens Door, by Guns n Roses
When I think back to the months prior to Jeff’s death, and him in bed listening to these songs over and over, and who knows how many other songs of forthcoming death he listened to, how torn he must have been knowing he was dying and also knowing there was nothing he could do about it. I know in my heart he worried about his family, and worried about what would happened to them once he was gone. I know he worried about his family, because we talked at length about what would most likely happen. I Know he worried…fretted about…his family, and about me. We talked about his worry for me. I also know he worried about who would help me through his death. I tried to convince him I would be ok...but I think he knew better. I know he died feeling guilty that no one would be here to help his family through his death.
How is it possible, after all this time, I am still waking up to sorrow, and how is it possible six years after Jeff’s passing, I still wake crying out for my son? How many of you can possibly understand this sorrow, this absolute empty numbness inside of me? How many of you even care? With the anniversary of his death looming near, Jeff has been on my mind more than ever. I can’t help but think back to all the days which have gone by without him in my life. When I think back to how much his children have grown without their father in their lives it makes me sad. And the very thought that each day that goes by without Jeff in their lives is one day further that their memories of him will decrease little by little. Oh my, this is such a sad, sad thought.
I know in my heart of hearts that all these thoughts are normal…all this sorrow for one who has lost a child is normal…but those of you who have not lost a child, do you see this as normal? My guess is you do not understand. I remember when I went to my first ‘Compassionate Friends’ meeting I was completely distraught on the resent loss of my son. The Compassionate Friends is a ‘grief’ support group, made up of members who have lost children. I could not understand why these people who were running the grief meetings were still crying over their children...crying over children whom they had lost years before. I was deep in grief over Jeff’s death and I was angry that these people who were in charge of running the meetings, were still crying over the death of their children these many years later...now I know, oh yes, now I know…they like I, will never get over this loss. They like I, most likely still wake crying for the loss of their child. They like I, have over the years found that this death of a child, is such an enormously depressing emotion that will never go away.
How can this loss go away? It is unlike any other death. Over the last 12 years I have loss my best friend, my father, my mother, my surrogate mother, my brothers, my husband…yet, none of these losses can compare to losing Jeff…not a one of them. I know my friends have time and again thought ‘Just get over it, you’ve gotten over the others, what’s the difference?’ Little do they know…I truly hope they never know this heartache…I wish I had never known this heartache.
Upon Jeff’s death his children gave me a list of songs Jeff listened to frequently prior to his death, songs they wanted for his video…those songs;
Long Black Train, by Josh Turner
Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Israel IZ
Knocking on Heavens Door, by Guns n Roses
When I think back to the months prior to Jeff’s death, and him in bed listening to these songs over and over, and who knows how many other songs of forthcoming death he listened to, how torn he must have been knowing he was dying and also knowing there was nothing he could do about it. I know in my heart he worried about his family, and worried about what would happened to them once he was gone. I know he worried about his family, because we talked at length about what would most likely happen. I Know he worried…fretted about…his family, and about me. We talked about his worry for me. I also know he worried about who would help me through his death. I tried to convince him I would be ok...but I think he knew better. I know he died feeling guilty that no one would be here to help his family through his death.
I remember immediately after his death I felt someone tapping on my knee, (I wrote about this in an earlier post). I talk about someone tapping on my knee to several members of my family, and to my friends. For the next five or six days after his death, and when I was most distraught, someone periodically tapped on my knee. We all assumed it was either Steve or Jeff tapping on my knee letting me know one of two things…
- Either it was Jeff letting me know he was ok, and he was trying to comfort me from the other side.
- Or it was Steve, letting me know Jeff was with him, and he was ok.
