Monday letter to my boy

Dearest Michael,
Do you remember how you told me you could not live without your daughter? You needed your family to be complete and without them you couldn't face your future.  I understood then and I understand now.  Now that you are in a peaceful place I hope you understand why we tried to encourage you to pick up the broken pieces of your life and start again.  You did try, I know that.  But people didn't understand.  There are some of us, lots of us, who need unconditional and unqualified love and acceptance or we crumble.  I have that in your Dad or I might be where you are - he is a "come hell or high water" person.  I remember reading your blog a long time ago where you said something about being glad your parents hadn't divorced because it gave you a sense of safety. The road was sure bumpy though wasn't it?  I hope there are things about your life that you have looked back on and been thankful for.  Dad and I love you so much.  Dad, like a lot of men, finds it very difficult to go to the dark emotional places and I know the last year of your life was hard but I know now that you will understand.  There was not one second that Dad didn't wish for your life to be easier for you, to see you smile, to laugh with you about something.  But we watched you suffer in a way no parent wants to see their child suffer.  There are times I feel a need to tell some people what I saw.  I believe they need to know what happens when a person is dying emotionally.  It is not easier to watch than to watch someone die physically.  You, like your mom, were never one to be able to walk away from anything you perceived as unjust and SO much in your life WAS unjust.  It broke you.  I'm writing today Mikey because I am so very angry again and feel a need to make someone else understand what has happened to our family.  I'm looking for some guidance from you I guess.  This was an emotional weekend for us all.  So much crying brings all those feelings to the front again.  It's a day I want to scream and smash things and shut out the world, yet I reach out electronically because really, I don't want to be alone.  I just don't want to see anyone and I don't want anyone to see me.  I understand now why you locked yourself away with your computer for the last months of your life. 

My heart is broken and I don't know what to do.  I want my family around me constantly and that's not possible and I have no interest at all in anything more.  Even the weather seems sad, so little sun this year so the flowers don't bloom, the garden seems melancholy.  I went to the Museum today because we are putting your picture up on the In Memory of wall.  You were only 31.  You shouldn't be going up there with your grandparents...it isn't the way things should be.  But we've chosen the picture..it's of you on your wedding day.  You said aside from the day your little girl was born it was the happiest day of your life.  Such a beautiful young man.  Only 25 then.  Six years and three months later you would leave us. 

I'm looking for answers today honey.  I don't want to hear that there are no answers.  I don't care if there are none...I want to hear them anyway.  I miss you so much darling boy.  I send you my love and hope where you are you know how very much we ALL love you. 

Talk to you soon,
Mom.

Just living in different places

I fully intended to climb back into bed this morning after my husband left for work.  But it didn't rain last night and it seems like a waste of the morning to do so.  My cold is getting worse and I'm grumpy. I'm going to have to do something today to get rid of the grumpies.  I'm afraid the cold has a mind of it's own.  I've been looking a pictures of the kids when they were younger, and pictures taken since Michael died.  I hope he can look down from Heaven and see his beautiful daughter.  She looks so much like him but her little personality is a combination of her mom and her daddy.  I think back to what Michael was like when he was four and a half.  He was another beautiful child.  But that was a bad period in my life and I was struggling with life.  What difference would have been made in my children's lives had I been more emotionally stable I'll never know.  But gut feeling, the little voice I think is always right, says that was a crucial time for Michael.  That's not to read as self-incrimination but fact.  I did the best I could as a parent but the truth is I came up short at that time.  It has nothing to do with love.  My love for my children was and is unconditional.  It had to do with life circumstances and abilities and inabilities of coping.   It also had to do with what I now understand is a major mood disorder..then called manic depression..now called bipolar.  Periods of deep and intense sadness often followed by sort of bizarre behaviour..anything to get myself cheered up. 

I've included a link to a website about depression.  It's a Canadian Website but I know there are such helpful resources world wide.  Thoses of us who have lost someone to suicide have seen first hand the devestation that can be causes when the mind and soul's ability to cope with what life is giving them, has been surpassed. 

I have also joined the Mood Disorders Association of BC.  I hunger for a better understanding of the illness that took my son and affects millions of people.  I believe mood disorders need to be brought out into the open and understood. They are after all, illnesses.  No one chooses to suffer with depression, loneliness, manic behaviour, out of control rages, inappropriate behaviour.  We are still a very closed minded society in regard to mood dysregulation and suicide. 

It's almost 8:00 and I want to go out and finish the lawn and weedwhacking and then take my cold to bed and lay down with the baby blanket on my bed.   Today I pulled out Michael's baby blanket.  I remember crocheting it as I worked nights as the switchboard operator and the hotel I worked at when I was expecting him.  What a great day that was...the power had gone out so I packed wood from the garage and kept our little house warm with the fire and by leaving the oven on all day.  I felt like such a pioneer woman! I think my husband was scared because it took about three phone calls to get him to finally get home from work...I made him supper..can you believe it?  What was I thinking??? Contractions while I cooked peas, rice and chicken. We packed up our little '72 VW and got to the hospital just after 7:00 pm.  Mikey was born at 10:00.  He weighted 9 lbs 2 oz and was beautiful from the moment he was born.  Back then we got to stay in the hospital for a few days.  I was there three or four as Michael had to go under the lights for a couple of days.  That moment, the moment I heard him cry, my life became complete.  The piece of my puzzle that had been missing, had been found and life was perfect.  God had forgiven me anything I had done in my life and given me this beautiful child to love and protect.   

And I am grateful for the 375 months and 3 days and 21.5 hours I was allowed to have him with me here on earth.  He is still my son, he will always be my son.  We just have to live apart for awhile. 

Changes

I can't quite remember why I called this blog "aftermichael" because there is, nor will there ever be an "after Michael"  Michael still is in my heart. He is a part of me and a part of his father and a part of his daughter and a part of his sisters and his nieces and nephews. 

Michael will always live on because we will keep his memory alive.  Without any exaggeration I tell you that he is the first thought of each of my days and he is also the last thought.  There are nights I fall asleep praying.  There are nights I fall asleep listening to my iPhone.  But I listen to the iPhone to keep from crying myself to sleep and I pray about my family and my boy..others too...but my family and Michael are the last words of my prayers.

I was unable to continue with my return to work (for now) so this past two weeks has been another transitional period.  I haven't written because I didn't really have anything to say.  I will say that I have increased my medications (doctor's advice) and am in no way ashamed of that.  My meds aren't something I abuse.  They help me cope.  There will come a time when I won't need some of them so much...but some I will always take. 

I am getting out my books again.  I find them so helpful because I know I am not alone and I do become very conscious of talking too much (outside this blog) of my sadness.  Truly, very few people want to hear it, because no one knows what to say.  My advice to anyone who has someone needing to talk to not to feel they need to respond in any way other than that of being a listener.  There are no answers for this.  Nothing takes away the sadness, the frustration, the anger or the fear. 

If you are walking the road of a survivor you are probably going to find that you are a much more empathetic person now.  You are going to be a better listener, a better shoulder to cry on, a kinder person to be reached out to. I don't think it's a conscious decision.  I think it just happens.  You may even find yourself crying with someone over what they are going through.  I think these are all good things.  I believe so strongly that we are here on earth to help each other.  Sometimes we don't figure this out until too late..but really, it is NEVER too late to be kind.  We may regret that in some cases it is too late...but...we always are presented with new opportunities.  Look around us...there is always someone hurting.  It is not up to us to judge how much.  It is only up to us to say "I'm here.  How can I help?" 

I listened to the words of the song my son picked out for his dance with his Mom at this wedding.  I'd never really listened until the other day..not truly.  How I wish I had listened before..and if I had...would I have asked the questions I now want to ask him?  I am blessed to have been given such beautiful children and grandchildren.  To have been allowed so completely into their lives...wow...they trust me...what a gift to be loved so much by one's children. 

I miss my beautiful son but I do know he loved me.  He trusted me...ultimately he trusted me with his life.  He knew I would understand.

I miss you Michael.  Thank you for loving me so much.

Mama.

confessions of a grieving mom.

I forgot that I get more out of writing than I give.  Feedback from friends, old and new, helps me so much.
I've been away for a few days and had some realizations about things that have happened since Michael's death so I'm going to write again  Because if you are in our position or know someone who is, maybe knowing that someone else feels these things will bring a bit of a feeling of normalcy.

1.  I cannot bear to hear a child cry. It breaks my heart because I can see they are trying to understand and it's just to much for them right now.

2.  I cannot bear the sound of an angry voice.

3.  I am angry because I think I am the only person who believed Michael was going to take himself away from us.  The only one...and I don't understand this. 

4.  I believe that I know myself better than anyone else and I believe I know that what I feel is real is is not going to ever get better.  This is about more than grief.  This is about being broken.  Being broken is okay, lots of things are broken and still function, they just function in a different way.  I am not the same person I was thirteen and a half months ago. 

5.  I am sorry for so many things I did in my life. But things done cannot be undone.  They can't be changed.  They can sometimes be forgiven but sometimes they can only be accepted or acknowledged as just being or having happened.  That's me.  It goes something like this:  "Yes, been there, done that, wish I hadn't but I did. It's something I have to live with".

6.  I love my son and I will always honour the decision that was only his to make...but I wish he had been able to get the help he needed to stay with us. 

7.  I play Animal Crossing because Michael's character is still on there.

Confessions.