Public Service Announcement

I'm interrupting this blog to make an announcement.

When I first started writing here, I didn't tell anyone about it. It was my private place to spew my thoughts as I tried to survive the best way I knew how. My feeling were raw and exposed. There was no room in my life to deal with family or friends trying to talk to me about what I wrote. I chose a public forum like this because journaling left me feeling cold and isolated. Putting it here was like being able to actually tell someone. Yet I wasn't burdening the people around me, who were also grieving, with trying to listen to what I have written here. Getting it out of me and feeling "heard" has been cathartic. It has helped me lay some of my angst down and move forward without it.

  Some. Not all. Nowhere near all. There is a bottomless pit of sorrow inside of me.

As time has passed, I feel stronger and better able to share this blog with people I know in real life. I even posted the link on my facebook. I don't really know who all has read it, nor do I ask people if they have. I am willing to talk about it, but I'm also willing not to. These are my thoughts and feelings and I will not apologize for having them. If what I write here makes someone uncomfortable then the easiest solution is not to read it. If I get the facts wrong, it's not in an attempt to inflict pain, it's me being human and getting the facts wrong.

This blog is in no way an indication of my entire life. It isn't indicative of how happy or sad I am all the time, or whether or not I feel love or compassion or joy for the other people in my life. It is not an indication of how much I do or don't love my other children. It is not a reflection on anyone's shortcomings or in any way intended to cause pain or sorrow to anyone else.

The fact is, no matter how much I am grateful for the rest of my life, I will never EVER stop loving and missing Josh. Anymore than I would have stopped loving him if he were still alive. This blog is where I deal and cope when I am no longer able to keep it inside. All I ask of anyone who reads is to be respectful of my need to put my thoughts here. If you want to talk to me about it, that's fine, but please remember there isn't a wrong way to grieve.... and there sure as hell isn't a right way to lose a child.

Enough said.

Shadow of sadness

Josh's suicide has changed each and every one of us who loved him. For me, I think the biggest change is not looking forward to the future without the shadow of sadness. When I think of something positive or uplifting that is going to happen in the future it is never without the immediate following thought of not being able to share it with Josh.

I can think of NOTHING that feels complete without him. I find myself wanting to build a new life where there would be no expectation of him being in it. But the only way to do that is to build a new me.... one that doesn't love him and miss him so much.

That's just not going to happen. Nor do I want it to.

So wtf am I supposed to do with that?

The Nook in the Hall

For seventeen months he sat on my dresser. His picture hung directly above him and when I passed by my thoughts were always pulled in his direction. I envisioned him perched up there kicking his feet back and forth bitching about how bored he was or reminding me his box needed to be dusted.

When I moved I had to find a new place to put him. I don't have a mantle, and the coffee table seemed a little up close and personal for visitors. I don't have a dresser and the nightstand was a little up close and personal for ME. While he was often a fan of hanging out in the kitchen, I don't have a lot of counter space and lining him up with the canisters just didn't feel quite right. Putting him inside the cupboards was out of the question as was a corner of the closet... so what to do?

I live in a little house built in the 40s... there's a small nook in the hall right next to the bathroom which was initially meant for the phone to rest. It was just the perfect size and shape for Josh's ashes to set. Where I will see him all the time, where he's close to one of his favorite spots to hang out. Yes, the bathroom. In typical boy fashion he took great pleasure in a healthy bowel movement and even more pleasure in telling everyone about them. So how fitting that he sits by the bathroom door so I smile everytime I go in there. The only thing lacking is his bathroom reader. He always had one to read while he did his best work. I'll have to get one from storage and set it next to him.

No I haven't lost my mind... or at least no more than usual. I just miss him... and I keep him alive in small ways that get me through the day. He always got my sick and twisted sense of humor and would completely understand his placement.

So there in the nook he sits. At least until I am ready to part with him and scatter him to the winds in Yosemite.  He probably won't need the bathroom reader there, but I may shred a page to scatter with him.... Just in case.

The damn kid still makes me laugh. Even through the tears.