Incoming!

Remember the old "Mash" tv series when Radar would call out "incoming" when the medivac units came in?
Today has been an emotional "incoming" day.

I have probably mentioned before that I've made a bit of a habit of going for coffee in the mornings.  Initially this started as a reward to myself after walking and it wasn't daily.  My justification for the daily expense of $1.38 (for unlimited refills until 11:00) is that I am keeping myself out of harms way.  By that, I mean that chances are greater that I will have a tough day if I don't get out, if only for a short bit.  Anyway, this morning someone had left an Avon magazine and I was looking through it.  Avon carries storey books in which you can record your voice for a child, or anyone else I suppose.  Looking at the book I heard Michael's voice, as clearly as if he was standing behind me, speaking the words he had recorded on a teddy bear he had given his daughter.  At that moment I knew I would never forget the sound of his voice. It is etched in my brain, my heart and my soul.  But I had to leave the restaurant because the wave of emotion had been so unanticipated  there had been no time to prepare and I was crying  before I knew why.

Later today I was doing some Christmas wrapping of gifts which need to be sent away.  I went upstairs into the closet in the room Michael had used when he lived with us last winter.  His clothes are still there but I am used to seeing them now. But looking on the floor of the closet for something, I saw his slippers, plain brown well-worn slippers and the panic set in.  Those old ugly slippers, slippers he had worn at his own home in happiers times, slippers that smell old and well used, slippers that he lived in for the two years before his death, were and are enough to bring me to the floor.

I write this, not as a sympathy ploy but as a bit of a revelation that sometimes there is no way to keep out of harms way, no way to dodge situations that bring painful memories and sadness.  At the same time, for me, it is not healthy to downplay these situations because to do so would be to invalidate them.  They are real.  They are important.  I expect there will be many more like them, and many of them will take me by surprise, but there is safety for me in that knowledge.  I will not (cannot) pretend my life is okay because it isn't and it never will be again.  I hate this and despite having to accept the reality of our situation in an intellectual or logical manner, I do not believe I will ever accept it emotionally. 

I have friends who have lost their children to suicide.  You would wonder at the odds against that wouldn't you?  But I have three friends in the same situation as my family is, and I believe that we have a commonality in that one thought.  Suicide is a permanent solution to a treatable illness, but there need to be more resources made available to patients and families needing help. 

So while I continue to advocate for my lost son and for the sons and daughters, parents and siblings of other families needing help I will be mindful of "incoming".