It was so nice today that I saw people wearing shorts. This is November. It isn't normal for our weather to be so mild this late in the year. I mean we're only 7 weeks from the shortest day of the year. I wanted so much to get out and feel that little rush of happiness that usually comes with a bright sunny day. But, I think my meds are starting to kick in. While overall this is a good thing, at least for now, the downside is that the medication also makes it difficult to feel the little highs that would normally come along. At this point in time, though, it's more important for me to feel I have some control over the depths that my grief and depression take me. So the logical part of me looks up at the sky and sun and acknowledges that yes, it is a beautiful day and even though, at this particular time I can't respond emotionally, I appreciate that at another time, this kind of day would give me great pleasure. Is this being mindful? I'm not sure, because I don't quite understand mindfulness.
I only cried a little today and that was at a therapy session. The rest of the day I managed. I see people looking at me uptown and wonder what they see and what they think. Ten years ago, what would I have thought if I knew someone whose son or daughter had committed suicide. Would I have pitied them, would I have had any idea what to say, or would I have just said hello, pretended I didn't know and keep going, or worse, would I have crossed the street to avoid them because I didn't know what to say. It's been more than 8 months and I still need to hear people say "I'm sorry". No one really does anymore. And when they don't I become afraid that my boy will be forgotten. My son, whose great great great grandparents were pioneers in this town cannot be forgotten. A life, so full of hope and promise, ended far too early. But we won't let him just fade into people's memories. Somehow he will be remembered. We are going to dedicate and plant a tree for him in the park uptown. There will a plaque with his name on it and his daugther will be able to go to Daddy's tree when she is older. But we need to find another way to keep him alive in spirit.
I miss him so much. My special child. Yes, he was a grown man, but in my heart, he will always be my baby boy.
1 comment:
Mama, I know that Mike could not have touched any person's life in the way the he touched your family's life. I know that. But I want you to know that your son would not ever LET anyone forget him. I feel like I don't have to try not to forget him, because he made such a mark on my heart that it is impossible. I wish I could make that clearer. Even on the days when I do not speak his name, I live our memories, in my heart and in my mind. In my soul, I see him every day. I know that my memories of Mike are unique, but the way that he entered my life and changed it is not unique. He CHANGED people's lives. Do not worry that he is forgotten. I love you.
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