So I rarely post on this blog anymore. I survived the death of my son, I survived three hellish years of depression after the death of my son and now I can't bear to live it over again in words. Is that understandable? Have any of you felt the same way?
On Saturday it will be 5 years since my son died. Five years! At times is doesn't seem that long ago and then other times it seems like a lifetime ago. I miss his face, his smile, his sense of humor. I miss seeing him grow up into a man. I miss the things I think he could have accomplished, the things he could have been. I miss everything about him on a daily basis. Mostly I just miss being with him. Seeing him walk through the door. Eating dinner with him. Watching a movie with him. I miss seeing how he would have been with Andrew at 18 and Phillip at 16. I miss hearing him and Keri talk about their dad and their youth. I miss the life he could have had. I miss it all. And sometimes I want it back. I want to go back to that time before he died and I want to reach out to him and help him through his troubles. Depression, drugs, alcohol, it all affected him. And the end result was not something I willingly accept. But accept it I must and do daily.
So five years and I'm still standing. At times I didn't think I would be. I didn't know how I was going to make it through. With God's help and the help of my family I am here. Some days I'm hanging on by a thread but I am still here. Do you feel that way? Does it seem like life is never gonna start up again? Do you feel like you have had enough and your ready to leave along with your loved one? I did. I felt all those things and I lived to tell about it. I'm writing this today because I made it through. I survived a devastating loss. And you can too. Hang on to your memories, hang on to yourself, hang onto whatever you need to hang onto to make it through. You will make it through and life will resume. Life will never, ever be the same but you will be able to smile again, laugh again, live again. I am living proof that this is true. I am a survivor of death, suicide, life changing events. I promise if you can hold on, you will be able to start living again.
As always, love and peace to all. Thanks for reading and remember I am here to help so if you need help just ask and be sure to leave your comments below.
Annette
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Last week I lost my cat Chatter. I know what your thinking, "it was a cat". But like most people's pets Chatter was more than a cat. He was my friend, my buddy. He was a connection to Ben. He was born to Matty. She was a cat that Keri talked me into taking after our neighbors said they could no longer keep her. She roamed the neighborhood and was a really nice cat. And little did I know she was pregnant. A few weeks later out come three little kitties. All three were different. One was white with black spots which we named "Moo" cause she looked like a cow. Then there was the common tabby who Keri while painting her nails came up with the name "Pinky". The third was a little different, part main coon and part tabby but real furry like a main coon. I knew from the start we would be keeping him. He was sweet right from the beginning. He couldn't meow and you could not hear him purr. His meow sounded like a caw and you only knew he was purring when you held him close and felt it. His name didn't come to us easy. We tried for days to think of a good name. One day Ben was standing at the kitchen table (I have no idea why I remember that) and he said he had the perfect name. He said "we should name him Chatter cause he can't meow". As soon as he said Chatter I knew we had his name. Now I know it's stupid to feel this as a connection to Ben, but I do. I feel like I lost something when Chatter died. Another connection to something Ben and I shared together. We all loved that cat and he loved us right back. We talked to him like a person. One of my last memories of Ben is him walking in the door and looking down at Chatter and saying "hi Chat, how you doing?" And of course Chatter cawed back at him as if to answer. I love those memories. I need them to survive. Chatter died in my arms after 15 years of unconditional love. I still look for him when I come home from work. I wait for him to come running to me. I wonder when I will get it and stop looking. But then it's been almost six years and I still look for signs from Ben. Losing someone---we never get over it, it never goes away, we just get use to it. It's not time that makes it easier, it's our magnificent brains that take over and help us cope. And then there is hope, the hope for a better tomorrow, a better future and a chance to again meet up with the people (and animals) we love.
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
