WHY ??? That is the biggest question that reverberates through my mind with such shocking blinding force that I'm certain my head will explode. Out of all the billions of people on earth who get to live another day, WHY did my 21 year old son have to die?
Tomorrow will be the 4 week anniversary of his death, although today seems especially horrible. I never knew so many tears could flow from my eyes all at the same time.
It was almost 4 weeks ago at about 1:30 pm that 2 detectives showed up at my door. And it was almost 4 weeks ago that my life still made sense, that my life was still mine, and under my control. When they told me the news I knew my son was present because I could feel him there lessening the load.
I have no idea how I was able to function that week and make all the arrangements, but somehow I did. I have very little memory of the first evening of my new existence; I was definitely in shock ... still am.
The past few weeks I have actually been able to function by blocking his death out because for me to remember it all at once I fear would be to quite possibly invite my swift, subsequent insanity. I worry about my mind caving in on itself in shock. And I worry that if I think about my son for too long I will fall into a deep pit of despair that I may never be able to crawl out of. So I choose to block it out and let small pockets of the intense grief hit me at times ~ like waves moving in and out. I must block out many of those waves; I must. I must.
Each day I wake up to this new shocking reality. I still can't believe it's real. I really can't believe it is. No, it just can't be. I know I'll wake up one day soon and realize I was right ~ that this is all just a horrible dream. It just HAS to be. But each new day begins with the realization that I will never ever see my first born again, not in this lifetime anyway.
I feel such guilt that I couldn't even keep my son alive. After all ~ isn't that the very least that we are supposed to do for our children? And I couldn't even get that right. Logically I know it's not my fault but my emotions are now in the driver's seat of my usual logical mind. I KNOW that his choices and life were his own but that doesn't take away the pain of always thinking that if I would have done this or this or that differently, then he still would be alive. Why couldn't I have stopped this?
How can I live without him ? Why the hell would I even WANT to keep on living without him? How can I endure this pain day after day after day? I have tried to rebel against the common held belief that after the death of a child the parent will never be the same again. I was angered that I may never be the same again because I was very happy with who I was before. But now I realize that I won't ever be the same again, because I have now had this intensely all encompassing experience, and felt emotions that I have never felt before. I live these new emotions day after day.
I have become a different person, I know that now. But I also know that in the future I will be a better person than I was even before this tragic horrific trauma. I will someday be a better and more understanding me. And at least that is something to look forward to. And right now that will have to be enough.