Do you miss him?
Do you think of him?
Yes. Probably once a day.
Once a day? Wow. I wonder what that would be like.
My son remains very much part of me. Every song, smell, movie, car, roller coaster, commercial, meal, joke, click of our thermostat, race, graduation sign, and every reference to suicide and it bubbles to the surface. In other words it’s always at the surface. Mostly the shock of it, the confusion of it. His life is present too – but still not as much as his death, his absence. I’m told in time it’ll be his life and sweet memories that are front and center and not his death. “Its been nearly two years??” “That’s okay. A lot of people I know who suddenly lost a child take five years before they’re able to think more about their child’s life instead of their death.”
Sometimes it’s lonely. Being divorced and not being able to grieve with Drey’s Dad can be hard. But I also know “what might have been” is just an illusion. Drey’s Dad and I are very different and we would probably be in frequent conflict if we were grieving “together.” We do keep in touch (which sounds superficial but what we share is anything but). We had lunch just before Mothers Day. In spite of our differences the pain is the same. We share stories of our grief experiences and of the responsibility we continue to carry. And we share what we’re doing to try to cope. We’ve both learned skills we never imagined we’d have to. Learning to live without our son is indescribable.
Am I ever happy? Joyful? Sure. I am even capable of having fun. But it’s never instead of the pain. It’s always in addition to the pain. I don’t think it’s possible to understand what I mean by this without experiencing it. Again… learning to live without Drey is indescribable.
Excellent description: “But it’s never instead of the pain. It’s always in addition to the pain.” Joy does come as in the morning, but in this life it will never have the impact that true joy has for us in Heaven. We can smile and laugh and happiness can be found in those old things we used to love but it has a new definition.
It has been five years for me and as the gripping shock and pain have eased I find that I can easily go back to day one. The very word “suicide” is everywhere. I notice it like I do the weather. It cannot be escaped. I so relate to what you listed about your son being with you….it seems everything everywhere has an impact.
Grief is a tenuous walk and there are not just pot holes in this road but deep and sudden crevasses. It does not matter how long we have been on this pathway. We will always be on it for the rest of this earthly life but it is the one that leads us into Heaven where we are promised to be with our sons again. God does remind me of that in so many ways as I struggle along, trying to understand. One thing that I will say is that I have had to come to terms with this “understanding” thing. I cannot, nor will I be allowed, to understand everything in this life. It just is and there is nothing I can do to undo it or change it. Trusting God is the only way I can make sense of anything.