Showing posts with label family loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family loss. Show all posts

Saturday, June 18, 2022

Dear Brian,

I am thinking of you and Paxton a lot today for some reason.  It has been a sad day today.  I saw a movie that had a baby that looked so much like Paxton.  Even had on a shirt identical to one that he wore a lot and he was the same age.  I still see you both everywhere.  I  catch myself looking for both of you in crowds and sometimes when I see babies that remind me of Paxton I want to just stay close to them and soak in their sweetness.  Sometimes in stores I follow their moms down a few aisles just so I can see him a little longer and feel him close to me again.  

I've set Sunday afternoons aside as the time I give myself  to cry.  Dad watches the race downstairs and I have some private time to myself.  So that I don't "break" in front of people or in public anymore I designated a day when I know I can be alone and I come in the office and I can miss you both all I want and out loud if I need to.  I allow myself time to just sit with my grief, cry and be sad. And sometimes I just sit here and think of things I remember because I want to keep you both fresh in my mind.  I had you a long time but Paxton has been gone way longer than the two years and eight month that I had him so I am so afraid that I will forget.  Not him, of course but the essence of him.  His silent sweetness, his funny little ways, our little games and how much they amused him, his first words, the sound of his voice and the "baby" way he pronounced words. That sweet baby smell, his giggle, what he felt like snuggled up to me asleep.  Little sweet or funny things he did like pretending to sneeze when he was so little and laughing when I said "Bless You!" because he knew it was a joke.  And how we used to play hide and seek and he'd lead me to the linen closet and shut me in and then pretend to look for me until he would open the door and "find" me right where he'd left me.  

These are the precious things that I never want to lose but I am so afraid that I will.  

I know there were a million little things that you all did or said that I was sure I'd never forget - but I did.  So I know its possible and so I try to remember all the little details that I can so that they will stay fresh in my memory and he will stay alive in my heart.  

So today is Saturday --not my day and yet I'm sad and grieving fiercely today. Not sure what's up with that unless it is the baby in the movie. 

Sometimes those little coincidences, like dreams, seem like little gifts from God.  Little snippets of you or Paxton that I find in crowds or in movies that give me a little private visit from you. I will take them.  And I am thankful to God for them even if they do make me sad afterwards.

I think lately about how everyday I'm a little closer to being with you all again.  Until then I will see you in my dreams or at the mall or in the babies I see on movies and I will think of you all and miss you still everyday.

 


Monday, March 28, 2022

What I would tell Brian if I could talk to him one more time...

My grandson asked me this past week if I had one more chance to talk one on one with Brian - what I would say... Just a few days before he asked me that, on his 49th birthday, I had wondered that same thing myself.  I decided I would give that question some thought and entertain that answer here as I did about three years ago.  

Brian,

First and foremost I would absolutely want to make sure that you knew that I love you with all my heart.  I would want to make sure you know that I didn't say I loved you, but that I love you --present tense- and always will.  Death has no impact on my love.  That would  be the first and most important thing I'd want to tell you.  But I would also want to tell you that I have never entertained the belief not for a single moment that this happened as they said it did.  I knew you 41 years before that day and I knew who you were in your heart.  I knew you were a sweet, kind, mindful conscientious child.  I knew you were a good and loyal brother to your siblings, and I remember how you could never hardly even fight back in a scuffle with your older brother because you were afraid of really hurting him.  I knew that you were a good and loyal husband to Kristen and when she left you pregnant with another man's child - I watched you walk my floor all night till 5:00 am for weeks and weeks second guessing every unkind word you'd ever said that may have caused her to want to leave.  You hurt over her, cried over her, loved her and you just wanted her to come home.  You immediately forgave her and you held no animosity toward her - you just wanted her back.  I remember me being mad enough to want to strangle her and still you defended her.  When I begged you to get a lawyer and fight for the kids - you angrily refused, saying you could never take your children from their mother, and you would never do that to your wife.  "She is my wife!"  You yelled.  You were hurt.  You were devastated.  But you never really even acted angry at her.  All you wanted was her to get past this and come home.  

You were angry at the other man and even got into a fight with him when you were totally blind-sided to find out that they were actually married before you were even aware the divorce was final.  All the while you had thought she'd eventually come back.  You lost your home, your wife, your children and the life you had known in less than 24 hours.  

You later grew to literally hate her as much as I ever knew you to hate but you also knew you had to keep peace or have your children kept from you.  So, you stuffed it down and made nice.  You were kind and accommodating to them both as they totally ran your life and extorted money from you to support their drug habit for the next 15 years. Then when Ashley came to live with you, most men would have put a quick stop to that child support but not you, you continued to pay her because you said she only wanted the money, and you wanted the child and you knew if you continued to pay her, she would leave Ashley alone and let her stay with you and if you stopped the money, she would fight to get her back and of course, you were right.  

You put up with untold misery out of them both for the next 15 years --for your kids. So no, it never crossed my mind that you could have done this.  Your kids were your life - all three of them.  Again, I knew who you were in your heart.

Though you had a quick, hot temper, you were always on the side of right.  You were conscientious, you had moral integrity and always looked out for the underdog.  You were soft-hearted to a fault and could never, never hold a grudge. That is who you were.

I'd just want to tell you how proud you'd be of your kids today.  And I'd tell you what a good little mother Ashley is and how she's going back to school and wants to take college courses for a degree in early childhood education, she cooks like a pro and has a home of her own, two beautiful little boys and a great husband that she says reminds her of you.  She is in church regularly, does regular bible studies and goes to cub scout camp-outs with her son.  I'd love to tell you about how much she misses you and how much she now looks back and appreciates all of the things you ever did for her and she tells me all the time how much she realizes now what she was too young to see and appreciate then.  She tells me how she wishes her husband could have known you because she is so proud of the way you raised her, the things you taught her and the stable, loving home you gave her.  She says you were the most positive influence in her life and the only stability she ever really had.  And she would give anything if you could see her now and know that all you tried to teach her was not in vain.  

I'd want to tell you that Alex has a new baby girl and he is doing very good now too.  Took him a little while but whenever it happens, it's right on time.  He has his own place and is a stepdad to three little girls.  He seems happy and though he doesn't talk to me as much about his feelings.  (He's a guy) He wants to make you proud and I can see your influence in him as well.  He has a good heart and he misses you and I know now that he has a baby of his own he, like Ashley will think of all that you were to him.  He will realize the sacrifices you made and all that you tried to do for them.  He will see now, what he couldn't see as a teenager and will miss you all the more.

I would also have to tell you that it has occurred to me, that your kids have straightened up and turned their lives around, I truly believe not "in spite" of losing you but perhaps "because" of it.  You were always too soft and let them get by with far too much.  They walked all over you and you rescued them and never made them stand accountable for their actions.  I truly do not believe that they would be where they are today had you still been here to rescue them.  Sorry, but I honestly believe that is true.  Hopefully, that is some good that has come out of all of this horrible bad.

My heart hurts for you still -every single day.  Not one day so far has gone by that you were not the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind every night.  It has been seven years now and though I'm settled with the idea that you are gone, I have good days and I can laugh again, the grief and pain are just as alive today as they were seven years ago.  I am glad that I did not know that would be the case seven years ago.  I would not have made it.  And if I am honest, some days I still wonder if I will.  I used to pray I'd get through just one more day and pray I'd get through this grief and now I realize that this grief albeit, a tamer version of it, will be with me forever, just as the love I have for you will and that's okay.  Grief is the price you pay for love.  In fact, I think I could almost define it now as "love".  At first it feels awful and rips a huge, ragged, bleeding hole in your heart and you just want it to go away because you relate it to the worst pain you can imagine but later it slowly evolves into your way of loving the someone you lost.  So now it feels as if I were to lose the grief, it would be wrong like I'd be giving up the love I have and so I'll keep the grief.

I am glad to know that you are home.  You came to me in a dream about four months after you all died and told me you were "Going Home!"  And you had the biggest smile on your face.  You were young and light and looked happier than I'd ever seen you look.  And I believe with all my heart that you are home and that you are smiling that huge smile everyday now with no more pain, no more earthly torment, no more disappointments, hardships or heartache.  You are where we all long to be and I for one, am so envious.  I want desperately to be with you. And that desire gets stronger every day.  I too, want to be home and as much as I love and miss you every single day - I truly would not call you back to the mess of this world even if I could.  I would love to go to you, but I would not want you to see and experience what is going on in our world today.  You could not stand it. 

I always thought that the first thing I'd ever say if I could talk to you would be to ask you what on earth happened - but funny when I saw you in that dream, for the first time in months - that really did not even cross my mind.  It did not seem to matter.  "Going Home" was all that mattered.  It was as if that just said all that needed to be said.  I was at peace and satisfied as if that answered all of the questions that had tormented me day and night for months.

I look so forward to the day when I will be with you again.  I miss you all every day and I love you.  

Mom




Saturday, February 20, 2021

Serious Writers Block

When I first began this blog I barely knew what a blog was.  To me, it started as an online journal.  Private at first and I had always intended for it to stay that way.  To me, it was a way to process all that had happened, all we had been told, all that we had lost, all that we couldn't talk about, all that I needed to get out of me.  I seemed to be "filled" to overflowing with emotions that I could not get out. Anger, confusion, deep, all-consuming sadness.  And there were so many questions hanging in midair that had nowhere to fall. 

I was also caring for my sister and sitting in the bone marrow clinic 5 days a week from 6 to 12 hours a day and trying to work my job in the evenings after things settled down.  I could not get a counselor to even answer my calls but if I had, there were not enough hours in the day to see one.  So this was "my" self-care my own answer to therapy.  This was my safe place to fall.  When the day was done with my sister and she was settled, when my work hours were logged, when everyone was fed and the kitchen straightened up - this was my time.  My time to cry, to talk about Brian, to express my confusion and scream out my anger, to question, to process - right here.  I looked forward to my time with my writing like a lifeline.  Nothing could make me skip it. It was key to my survival.  

I was so angry at the whole mess until I couldn't stand myself.  I was throwing terrible temper fits.  Screaming and throwing things and snapping at all the people I loved. All I could think about was how could anyone that really knew Brian ever, ever believe he did this.  It was all consuming.  And it was killing me that none of his accusers even knew him nor did they make the effort to even try.  After the official determination even those that had known him suddenly seemed to forget the person that he had always been, the dad he had always been. Never once in his entire life had he ever laid a hand on any woman not even the wife that tormented him for 18 years. 

All of his talents, his work ethic and abilities, his quick wit and keen sense of humor, all of his comical antics and practical jokes, his dedication to learning the bible prophecies, his love and dedication to his children for over 20 years --all of his previous life, any and all good he had ever done had been laid to waste. Erased in a moment even sadly, by some that knew him best. 

I decided I could not allow the general public to just believe what they were told about him without ever having known him or given him the chance to defend himself.  Although I had not wanted to make my pain, my anger and my devastation public and lay myself vulnerable to the biased scrutiny and wrath of the general public. And I knew from what people were saying on public forums I was opening myself up to the possibility of more pain and judgment - but I was Brian's mom.  Still - Brian's Mom. Now and forever and if I were his only ally and only defender then I would take it public and if I accomplished nothing else the general public would at least know a little of the Brian I knew.  I refused to let him be thought of only as a monster tried and found guilty in a court of public opinion without ever giving him a chance at a defense.  He may carry that title as I'm sure he will but some small part of me hoped and prayed that they would read enough of who he was to us before that god-awful August day erased all the good in his life.  Maybe if even, one would see him as a person with feelings, as an employee with goals, as a funny, talented, hard-working single dad trying to be both mom and dad to two children alone for 12 years, as my funny, goofy loving son, as a betrayed, devastated husband that lost his home, his wife, his children and his confidence in one fell swoop. If I could bring him to life for even one person and let them see him, know him before that day - then I had to try.

That one day erased his future.  I couldn't stand idly by and let it erase his past as well.  I couldn't stand knowing that all that he was up to that day counted for nothing.

I kept thinking of how it would feel if I were accused of some terrible, tragic crime that I did not commit and how awful it would be for everyone to believe I was guilty.  And I thought how I would at least be comforted in knowing that those people that loved me and knew me best would stand by me and would "know" without a shadow of a doubt that I was innocent.  I would know that no matter what the public thought the people closest to me, in my inner circle who knew who I had been up to that day -- to those people --I would not need to prove my innocence.  I would assume that my previous life, my history with them, all that I stood for and all that I had ever done right in my life --would be proof enough.  And I thought about who I was - Brian's mom - having to look him in the face someday and tell him I believed he was capable of something so horrific.  The person that knew him best; the one that knew all his faults, his fears, his weaknesses, his strengths, his beliefs, his good side, his moody side --all of him.  I just kept thinking about how he would feel to know I believed he was guilty.  I knew him.  The public didn't know him, but I knew him.  I had to stand up for him.  I had to be his voice.  I had to let others know a little of the person I knew then they could judge at least a little more fairly.  

At a bare minimum I hope I have done that.  

The blog began to take on a life of its own.  It was my way of processing.  It was my way of letting others know Brian.  It was my way of honoring and remembering all that Kara and Paxton were to me.  It was my first way of communicating with Kara's mom when I wanted desperately to contact her but was afraid to call.  I didn't know what was right and I wanted to be respectful and give her - her space always painfully aware of what she was going through and that in her eyes we, my family caused her pain.  I was also aware of the possibility of anger and even hatred at all of us. I so wanted to let her know how devastated I was for her and her family's loss.  When she asked my daughter if she could read the blog - it did what I never expected, it opened the door to a friendship.  And in some strange way she found comfort in what I wrote.  So, I wrote. And while I had spent my entire life writing suddenly that was all I could write. And now...well I can't even seem to write here either. Not sure if writing will ever come back to me.  I pray that it will.  In the meantime, I will just always be thankful that before it left me, I would be introduced to Praise and Worship music, I would find a dear friend in Kara's mom, she would find some comfort in my written word, and I could find peace and solace as I always have --in words right here.  

Friday, January 1, 2021

Kissing 2020 Goodbye

Well I should have known it couldn't leave without kicking and screaming its way out.  I am sick.

So for the first New Year's day in probably 15 years now I cannot spend New Year's with my best friend Kathie.  Doesn't feel like anything drastic but I don't dare expose her or her sister or her husband to anything because these days you just don't know.  So we will sit home alone - quarantined for the next 10 days I guess.  So now 2020 has officially hijacked New Year's Day 2021!

Today, for some unknown reason has been a very down day.  Its dismal outside but it was dismal inside as well.  Knowing I can't go to Kathie's like I have done for years has not helped but actually I think I'm okay with that.  Seems like we have had weeks of hoopla because Christmas was celebrated in several small gatherings so it kind of dragged on and I'm a little tired.

I've been reading a novel which is not usually my cup of tea.  Not much of a fiction lover but this is based on real events and I felt like I needed some down time reading.  It was a very good book but the subject matter was very sad and depressing and as it turns out I don't think that was what I needed right now.  The book was about a children's home in Tennessee that stole children and adopted them out to wealthy and powerful families, politicians, movie stars for a huge profit.  It was called "Before We Were Yours" By: Lisa Wingate.  The characters and details of their lives were fictitious but the premise of the story was true.  The Children's home was real.  The woman behind the baby brokering business was real.  The stories of cruelty, neglect, molestation and even murder were real.  It was a depressing, sad and horrific account and an eye opening realization of how cruel and horrible people can become for money.  It also cements the reality that as bad as the world is today - it has been just as bad in times past. People have committed inhumane atrocities for profit and power throughout the pages of history.  But it was not a light read by any stretch of the imagination and this was not a good time to read it. 

This has sure been a horrific year and I am glad to see it go however, the realist in me will not allow me to be overly enthusiastic about 2021 taking its place.  Too much lying in wait to believe that it is all going to magically get better.  Like we were going to wake up this morning and the virus will have disappeared overnight, all of our civil liberties and personal freedoms will have been restored, all of the businesses that have been bankrupted by this will have revived, people will want to work again and we will not be living with the threat of socialism and communism looming large on the horizon. We will be living once again in the land of the free in a United States that I recognize. And all will be sunshine and daisies.  

And as bad as this year has been and it has been like none other in history, I mentioned this morning to my husband that it is not the worst year we've ever seen.  And although I have always known that I would never get over losing a child - you say that without really knowing what that truly means.  And even after it happens you hope and pray that you were wrong.  That some day that pain would let up and you could live a normal life again.  All you have to compare it to is other, less horrific losses.  The grief was bad.  There was sadness and months and months of crying and guilt and sleepless night but then life began to slowly come back.  Days looked brighter.  You laughed.  Life continued.  You still missed the person you lost but you lived with the loss, remembered them with laughter and fond memories. And you picked back up and you lived again. So there is no way I could have imagined that 6 1/2 years would go by so quickly and that I would still be crying.  That I could still find it hard now to look at their pictures, that I would still be haunted by the unknowns of what happened and why.  Almost seven years.  That would have been far too much to live with had I known that in the beginning so I am glad I didn't know this then.  

However, today it no longer scares me because I realize with "acceptance" that it will always be.  Some days are better than others and I understand now that "some days" is the best I can hope for.  And I understand now that some days it will always hurt.  Some days it will be unbearable.  Some days I will cry.  Some days it will be like it is brand new again and some days it will be unbelievable.  And I know now that those days will always be with me.  This is not something I will ever, ever get over.  I will live with it and the pain will not be as sharp.  I will cry but alone and controlled and not as often.  I will wake up in total disbelief, but I will quickly recover and realize it has been like waking from a dream.  

I have finally come to the realization that this is life now and that's just how it is.  It will never go away.  How could it?  How naive of me to have ever believed that it could.  

I don't know how much the shame and secrecy contribute to that fact but I'm sure they don't help.  Perhaps if I could have grieved them openly, received love and support like normal people, if I could have been able to talk about them or hash out the confusion and anger and mystery or bounce my thoughts off someone, get feedback, miss them out loud, perhaps if I could speak of my children to people I meet like a normal person or perhaps if I had a socially acceptable answer to: "what happened?" instead of hiding my hurt and hiding the most horrific tragedy a mother could live through, hiding my children --all of them and the details of our life because I don't know how to answer: "How many children do you have?"  If I say three, they ask conversation starter questions - where do they live, what do they do?  Are they married do they have kids?  If I say two, I feel horrible.  If I say three and one has died, they ask what happened.  So, I avoid all talk of my children and feel as though I am living a lie at all times.  I feel guilty like I am rejecting or abandoning my living children like I am not claiming them, bragging on them, talking about their lives.  And keeping secrets will eat you alive.  How can I possibly make friends or get to know people when I have the worst tragedy in my life that has to remain untold.  They cannot ever "know" me, and I feel like I'm living a lie, not being true to myself, not even being myself.  Not at all living authentically and am not a "surface" person.  If I feel comfortable enough to tell them anything I begin to feel judged.  I start reading stuff into little slights and feeling as if they are treating me differently now.  It is changing me.  It is making me a loner.  Making me not want friends because it is too hard.  I can't be me so how real can a relationship with them be anyway.  I am sure that the nature of the situation has had a great deal to do with why I am still where I am.  And just like 2021 can't erase the tragedies of 2020 nothing can ever erase the tragedies of 2014




Thursday, October 22, 2020

Still

 

I was just telling my sister that grief just keeps coming at you because if you loved someone you will never stop missing them.  It takes turns.  Some days I think about my Mama all day long and it has been over twenty one years since I lost her and some days it still seems so fresh it is impossible to believe it has been so long. I still relive that evening on the hospital helipad helpless and alone as I watched from the ground and an overwhelming sadness overtook me - as they lifted off and she flew away in the helicopter as they “life-flighted” her to Emory – She may as well have been carried off by a band of Angels because I knew in my heart she was flying away for the very last time.

Some days I just think about Shirley and how after Mama and Daddy divorced she literally moved in and rescued all of us.  She gave us the only real stability we had ever known.  I think about how selfless she was giving her all to be there for all of us.  We were strangers to her.  She had never been around kids and she gave up her quiet, peaceful life of never having to struggle to rescue a bunch of needy “strays” and stayed loyal to us for over 20 years until she died.

Some days I think about my brother in law Keith Day, lost way too young to a heart attack at 50 years old.  I think about how funny he was and about how he went against everyone’s advice to start that street ministry that has now morphed into the “Blessings Bus Ministry” that feeds and clothes the homeless on the streets of Atlanta for over 15 years!  I think about how proud I was of him then and how thankful I am to get to be even a tiny part of it now.  

Some days I go way back, and I miss my uncle - Bobby Holland killed in a tragic car accident at 26 years old.  He left a young wife and 8-month-old child that never knew her daddy.  I think about what he was to me.  I think about what a good daddy he would have been to her.  He was the first man that I ever really trusted.  He was kind and gentle and so different from all the men in my life that either, grabbed at me and made me feel gross, or beat the hell out of me for little or no reason.  I had a pretty dim view of men in general most of my life.  He was the exception.  He was also the first person in my life that I loved and lost; at 10 years old he was my introduction to grief. I cried over him for a solid year.

There are days when I think about my aunts and uncles that I’ve loved and lost; my grandparents and as of two years ago, my dear friend Durinda – the first of my childhood friends to die.  My friend and neighbor most recently - Linda Sayre a testament to the way a Christian both lives and dies.  She lived loving the Lord and she died trusting Him.

And of course, leading the pack are the days that I think of Brian and Paxton and Kara.  Those days are still after 6 years - devastating and still that grief surrounds and nearly consumes me almost daily.  I don’t cry everyday anymore but I do still cry.  And while it seems good that I no longer cry everyday I’m really not sure it is because I think holding it in could make you explode.  Because replacing that is a deep, aching sadness that permeates my entire being.  I can laugh but not without guilt.  I have small joys, but they are colored by a layer of sadness and intense sense of loss.  Each takes their turn at me.  Each has their day and of course there are still the ever-lingering peripheral losses that continue to pile up --six long years of losses.  Like after all this time I still do not know what happened.  Not a day so far goes by that I do not think of that.  After six years I still cannot talk openly about them.  I still cannot acknowledge that I ever had them, loved them or lost them because of the questions sure to follow that I still do not know how to answer.  I feel cheated and that feels like a loss unto itself.  I still feel judged, and I still feel guilt where Kara’s family is concerned.  My faith has suffered immensely.  I fight it – daily - with everything I have but there’s no use lying – it is not the same and it has suffered irreparable damage as has my relationship with literally every other person in my life.  Some lost never to return; some have returned but what we have left is so different the relationship is virtually unrecognizable.  I’d venture to say not one part of my entire life has not been seriously affected.  I still don’t sleep well waking up most mornings before 4:00.  I still cringe and get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach on the 23rd of the month – not just August but every month – for six years.  I do not seem to be getting “better” as I’d hoped and prayed and each successive year, I find myself getting closer to "bitter” than I’ve been for six years. 

Some days I can see their pictures and feel love and warmth and remember sweet memories.  Other days I can see their picture and it is like a knife to my heart.  Three knives actually.   

Still surprisingly, Paxton has been the hardest.  Maybe because he was totally innocent and maybe just because he was a baby and there is something so awful and so tragic about the loss of a child.  And most especially under such traumatic and horrific circumstances.  That said, they have all been hard.  Very hard.

Still, I feel guilty because I never saw any of them and that feels so wrong and yet I know if I had it to do over, I would choose to do the exact same thing again.  I am a coward.  I could not see them and live and the survivor in me always, always knew that.  I am an incredibly strong person, but strength only goes so far, and I simply could not face that.

The conclusion I’ve come to is if people have had a place in your life; have impacted your life, you have loved them, or they have loved you –you will always miss them.  Always think of them from time to time and yes, even always grieve the loss of them – still - and always.

Thursday, January 2, 2020

The Fallout

Until you have been here there is no way to ever believe what a determination of murder/suicide can do to a family.

Like with any tragedy of course - it sends you reeling.  I had not even absorbed the fact that my child was gone when I was hit like lightening with my grand baby is also gone. Then there is yet more --my daughter-in-law is also gone.  Three members of my family at one time in one split second - my life has been decimated.  Then before I could even wrap my head around this god-awful truth someone somewhere tells me they think it looks like suicide.  Suicide? That doesn't make sense.  I don't remember much from that day.  Bits and pieces really.  But I clearly remember my first thoughts when I hear the word "suicide" I thought "well that doesn't make sense there were three of them and then --and I may even have said it out loud -  what difference does that make anyway? They are gone"

Then as if that freight train was hit by a blinding violent tornado they quietly add --murder --suicide.  I could not comprehend in the least the meaning of that phrase.  And let me tell you had I been able to fully comprehend the meaning I could have never been prepared for the implications of that phrase.

It is sooo much to take in; so many questions left forever unanswered.

One day we were a normal family happily attending the church we'd been in for over twenty years.  We went out to lunch afterward for a burger with friends from church and before that normal afternoon lunch was over --life as we knew it - was also over.  Every part of it.

We were not perfect but we were an average, somewhat good family.  We had normal jobs. I'd worked in the insurance industry for thirty years.  I did nothing beyond go to my job, sit in traffic, keep up our home, go to church and spend time with family. We had been in our home for over twenty years.  My husband had been on his job 34 years.

We didn't "winter" in Aspen or vacation in the South of France.  We spent every holiday at home with family.  We played cards with our kids occasionally on Friday nights.  We went out to lunch with friends from church about every other Sunday.  I kept my two-year old grand baby every other weekend.  We didn't drink.  We didn't smoke.  I liked to cook so we seldom ever even ate out.  We weren't even adventurous enough to go to a larger church even ten miles away.  Instead we attended the tiny 100-year old Baptist church at the end of our street.  With so few people, everyone had several jobs so out of necessity I was on the building and grounds committee, the Communion Service committee and the church bulletin committee.

We were stable, predictable and painfully average.

My daughter, was a stay at home mother of three.  She volunteered at church; lead a crafting class in Bible School and she and my son in law had once been youth ministers and my son-in- law taught Sunday School and filled in as interim pastor at times.

My oldest son lived in NC.  He's married with two grown daughters.  He owns his own business, lives in a small house they had built on their land in rural northern NC.  He raises German Shepherds and she is a postal worker and has been on her job over twenty five years.

My youngest son had been a single dad of two children for twelve years after his wife left him for another man.  He worked hard on his job. He worked in his yard. He attended church although not regularly.  He didn't go out much and I used to tell him he would never find a girlfriend if the only place he ever went was work and to his mom's house.  He loved woodworking and built the beautiful five foot tall polished cross that hangs over the pulpit of our church.  Finally after twelve years single he met the girl of his dreams and married her after just four months.  They had the baby she had been told she could never have.  They had a new house that would have been totally paid for in five years.  They had just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary.  And they had almost completed the total renovation of their new home after almost three years and they were now almost debt-free.

We were average, okay people --all of us.  Until we weren't.

In the span of an hour and a half we were a shell of family decimated by multiple loss.  All of us destroyed.  Tossed into a media circus and suddenly we went from being a boring, average, normal family to being "those people".  The determination made by the police in a very short few minutes altered our lives forever.  Not only did we all lose three members of our family but we went from having friends that loved us --to abandoned and avoided.  We went from being pillars of the community to --being stared at and pointed at when we went out anywhere in our quiet, familiar town where we had lived for over twenty years.  Family members did not know what to say to us so they avoided us altogether. We went from boring and average to being the subjects of a media circus that was literally worldwide.

We had to strategically postpone the publishing of the obituary until after the service.  We had to keep the service secret and by invitation only and we had to have the police in attendance to keep the angry crowds, media and TV cameras out.

We were disregarded, disrespected and talked down to and lied to by the investigators, the Sergeant in charge, the police Major and the coroner.  We had done nothing wrong.  We had had an unbelievable triple tragedy hit our family.  And instead of sympathy, support and understanding we were ostracized and treated like we were public enemy number one.

I was a mother that had lost my son and my grandchild and yet when I asked what the autopsy had revealed.  The coroner barked back at me "He died of a gunshot wound to the head but I expect you already knew that!"

The sergeant in charge of the investigation openly lied to us on multiple occasions and when I asked for --begged for proof, for a fair, full and complete investigation to at least prove what they were condemning my son for - I was told: "Giving you closure is not my job.  Finding the cause and manner of death is my job and I have that.  The investigation is closed."

This part was just the first year yet there is so much more that is not over and will never be over.

The general public acted like we somehow "deserved" this.  And certainly like they were glad that Brian was dead.  According to them he deserved to die and was a monster and we by association must also be monsters and it was unfathomable that we would love and miss our child.  He did not deserve the fairness of proving that determination and we did not deserve the truth or even what they would give to anyone - absolutely anyone else - a full and thorough investigation. Their minds were made up and they were so prejudiced against him until they had immediately been his accuser, his judge and his jury - Guilty was their verdict and since he was already executed their work was done.

Their verdict did not condemn him. Their verdict condemned all of us. His family.

We were shunned by many in our community.  My grandchildren were tormented on social media as if they had not had a huge and horrific loss.  They acted as if they deserved this.  We had no choice but to leave the home we had loved for so many years and move 100 miles away where we could be anonymous just so we could attempt to survive this.

In moving, I left my daughter --my only local child.  We had lived 4 miles apart for the past 20 years.  My three grandsons also lived within 10 miles of us and now I never see them.  My church that had been my solace and my comfort and my home for over twenty years - now gone.  I left my close knit community the people that had been my friends, my church family and my neighbors for twenty three years.

It was Home.  Home where all the memories of life with my family were.  That is where we had watched our grandchildren grow up, where I had taken thousands of family photos - birthday parties, prom pictures, wedding pictures; where we'd had twenty years of holidays and Sunday dinners, and family cookouts.  That was where all of my grandchildren learned to swim and canoe and ride four wheelers.    It was where we had buried twenty years of family pets.  It was where me and my three grandsons camped out in the backyard (for about an hour) when they were six and seven years old.  It was where my husband and my two sons spent four months building my mother an apartment over our detached garage and where she lived happily until she died.  It was where my husband, myself, and my sons hand built a two story barn from lumber cut from a 100-year old oak tree that fell on our property. It was where I watched over 100 young couples begin their life together as husband and wife including my brother, my sister, my son and my grandson.  It was where our church held 12 old fashioned baptisms in our lake with the entire church standing on the banks with tears in their eyes singing "Shall We Gather At The River" to the top of their lungs as another child was baptized into the family of God.

It was not just a house.  It was the best part of our lives - all of our lives for twenty three years.  It was heart-wrenching to leave my children, my church, my memories and my home.  It was another huge loss when I'd already lost so much.

It has been proven that secrets psychologically destroy people.  And yet we have no choice but to keep this god-awful secret.  The biggest and most devastating thing that has ever happened in our lives and we can't even acknowledge it.  It is like living in the Twilight Zone.  And keeping this secret is destroying all of us.  And still five years later we cannot openly grieve our children.  We can't talk about our loss or even acknowledge our grief for fear it will bring up questions we still do not know how to answer.

And now we live in the secret world of that anonymity.  I have neighbors I cannot tell.  I make friends that I cannot tell.  I go to church with a church family that I love and I live in guilt because I cannot be honest and I have to hide the biggest part of myself from them and feel like I am living a lie.

I know my child.  A mother knows what her child is and is not capable of.  He did not do what he was accused of.

I have researched personality traits of people that commit murder/suicide where an entire family has died.  And there are 10 common traits:

It is most always a man
There is always isolation - They isolate the family from other family and friends
They are consumed with hatred
They are extremely violent people
They block all escape routes
They all have previous and multiple occurrences of domestic violence
They are intolerant of retaliation (leaving, calling the police, filing for divorce etc.)
They try to prepare a history of their own that leaves them in a favorable light

The only one of these traits that apply here was that he was a man.

Supposedly the first thing the police look at is prior record for violence or previous reports of domestic violence.  There were none.  He had never been in any kind of trouble even as a teen.  He had never laid a hand on any woman ever including the ex-wife that left him pregnant with another man's child. He even in later years when they would allow it, brought that child to his house for a weekend visit with his own two children because she cried and felt left out and his daughter wanted her sister to come.  

Vengeful and violent - he was not.

There was no record ever of a domestic call to his home and he had lived in that same county for eighteen years.  Even the police admitted to me that that was unusual.

I truly believe that the police should be better trained to fully investigate a situation before they make a determination that is going to totally decimate every life connected with it.  There is no getting over such a mistake.



.

Sunday, December 8, 2019

Christmas Season


We are now six Christmases in and I have yet to celebrate Christmas again.  I have managed a small tree for a few of those years and in 2014 I understood fully why I just couldn't do Christmas but even in the early stages of catastrophic grief I believed Christmas would come back for us in a year or two.  It is surprising even to me that six seasons later I am still not having Christmas.  

I have worried that it was a rebellion of sorts stemming from an unrecognized underlying anger with God but I really did not "feel" angry anymore and don't feel that I would ever do that so I really couldn't understand why I was actually, intentionally balking at having any kind of Christmas celebration.  Last year I actually felt like Christmas could possibly "come back".  I was a little enthusiastic about decorating and even purchased a new smaller tree but then December 3, my sister went to the hospital with pneumonia.  When she got to the ER by ambulance her fever was over 105 and she went into a coma and ended up in ICU on life support for 15 days.  Waking up by nothing less that a pure miracle on Christmas Eve --the entire month of December missing from her life.  It took six months of therapy to get her mobile and back to maybe 75%.  She will never really fully overcome that huge setback.  

So this year I was fully expecting to have Christmas on track full steam again.  Not.

I have less enthusiasm than I had last year.  It seems Christmas returning is farther away than it was four years ago.  And I have been totally baffled as to why.  This morning I read a devotional that I get by email daily.  It was about Christmas.  It really ended up being nothing about anything remotely familiar to my life and yet the beginning of it hit me like a brick -- an epiphany of sorts and suddenly I realized what my deal with Christmas is actually about.  It is not, as I had worried, a rebellion towards God or what Christmas stands for at all.  It is about what Christmas had become for me.

As a child I was such a dreamer.  I was beside myself over Christmas every year.  The promise that it held of the latest and greatest new toy being advertised on TV, a family outing to pick out a tree, everyone gathering to decorate it, the lights, the beautiful packages with ribbons and bows.  And of course every year I prayed for snow.  I live in Atlanta, Georgia - never in my life did I see a white Christmas but it didn't stop me from praying for it in rapt anticipation year after year.  I stared out the window into the darkness late into the night Christmas Eve looking for Santa's sleigh.  I imagined of my mother putting out cookies and milk for Santa and the family gathering around and singing Christmas Carols as we hung stocking on our fireplace.  I was a hopeless dreamer.

I was the oldest of four children born to two alcoholic parents Christmas for us was about as far from my Norman Rockwell dream as it could get.  

My mother always saw to it that we always had a tree and toys.  And I should have been more thankful for what we did have I guess.  But it wasn't toys I longed for.  It wasn't greed that fueled my disappointment.  I wanted "family".  I wanted normal.  I wanted the things money could not buy.  I wanted my mother home for Christmas.  I wanted us all gathered around the table for a festive Christmas dinner together.  I wanted us to spend time together baking cookies, wrapping gifts, singing carols.  But she never was.  She was gone.  Almost every Christmas eve as long as I could remember - sometimes she worked, sometimes she was just gone all Christmas Eve.  We never saw her till Christmas Day - grouchy, half asleep and hungover.  

We were left with Daddy and Daddy was crazy-mean when he was drunk.  Our Christmas Eve was spent wondering what lay in store for us before morning.  Were we going to be beaten or were one of our pets going to be abused or killed.  And Christmas for some reason brought out the absolute worst in him.  Ghosts from his raising I'm sure.  So we had memorable Christmases but not the kind Norman Rockwell would paint about.  

One memorable Christmas Eve, while Mama was working of course, he gathered all of four of us into the car (usually in pajamas, barefooted and without coats) and informed us we were going for a ride.  It was his thing to get drunk and want to drive around - a particularly terrifying event for all of us.  He drove around for about a half hour and then pulled down a dead end street and parked the car.  He turned off all the lights, opened the door and got out which was also very typical of these late night rides.  And he disappeared into the darkness leaving all four of us in the cold, dark car wondering what was coming next.  When he returned we heard him open the trunk of the car, fumble around, cuss and then he pulled open the drivers door and got in.  He was carrying the 38 caliber pearl-handled pistol that he had dubbed "Old Smoky" that always seemed to appear when he had a few drinks.  For a little added drama, he had a glove he also had taken from the trunk of the car and tossed it into the back seat to my sister closest to me in age and demanded she check it out and tell him what she found.  

She answered, "bullets Daddy."  
"How many?" he demanded.  
"Five" she said.  
"Yes, he agreed.  Five; one for each of you and one for your mother."  

We all started to cry and ask why?  What had we done?  

No answer.  He got out of the car again and disappeared into the dark as all of us sat there frozen waiting for the shooting to begin.

Then he later comes back to the car and without another word cranks the car and heads for home.

Another Christmas Eve while yet again Mama was "gone".  He put us to bed early and then around 1:00 am came and woke us all up and had us open all of our dresser drawers and empty the contents onto the floor.  Where then he instructed us to take them to the kitchen and place them into the washer to wash the clean clothes.  When they were washed, dried and folded he dumped them into the floor and said, "Now do it again till you get it right."  So we washed clothes, clean clothes, all night until daybreak Christmas morning.

There were Christmases where we had to leave home and interrupt some relatives Christmas begging them to let us stay with them because he was in a drunken rage and we had no where to go.  There were Christmases where the police came and hauled him away in handcuffs with all of the neighborhood kids watching.  

Yes, our Christmases were always memorable albeit in a "Stephen King" sort of way.  

And yet, every single year like an idiot, without fail I had hope anew that "this year" we'd suddenly wake up in a normal home and Christmas would be wonderful.  

When I left home at 14 we had still not turned into the Cleavers.  

But I determined that when I had a family of my own and it was entirely up to me - my kids would have the perfect Christmas of my dreams. Perfect of course does not exist but I tried.  God knows, I tried.

We had no money so I started Christmas shopping in July buying one or two things at a time.  I hid gifts, I wrapped gifts.  I made handmade bows.  I planned family outings to a tree farm where we went up and down rows and rows of ridiculously priced trees to find the perfect one.  I slowly over the years collected little old fashioned wooden ornaments and carefully wrapped and packed them every year like they were fine crystal and when I pulled the out the next year it was almost a "holy event" as we carefully lifted the little wooden toy ornaments along with whatever hand made ornaments my children had made that year in school.  I'd fix snacks and we'd have a little mini-party as we put on Christmas music and all decorated the tree as a family.  It was several years before we had a house with a real fireplace but once we did, I'd string live pine garland with mini-lights the length of the mantle with big red bows and all of the kids stockings.  We'd pile packages under the tree and make games out of trying to keep my middle child from peeping into his gifts before Christmas.  In later years I baked Christmas cookies and made homemade fruitcakes and divinity, the menu and the guest list grew as our little Christmas Eve party gained momentum.  

My children got married and grand kids came along and we added stockings to the mantle and our Christmases got large and loud and messy and wonderful.  We began inviting anyone that had no place to go on Christmas.  We bought extra gifts and always had tons of food.  Soon my children numbered 17 and Christmas had grown to about 30 to 40.  Then life and divorces happened. Schedules became complicated when my boys both had to fight for a few hours with their children on Christmas Eve.  Geography and time constraints and the whims of ex-wives made our Christmases begin to be stressful and difficult and everyone began to seem on edge.  The last Christmas we all had as a family 2013 working a full time job and driving 3 and a half hours a day in Atlanta traffic meant I had to work on getting Christmas together for weeks a little at a time.  I planned.  I decorated.  I cooked.  I wrapped.  And Christmas came and everyone seemed to just be in a hurry to leave.  They ate.  Unwrapped gifts and all began to get up and get ready to leave.  My son came from four hundred miles away to stay one hour and the two local children and all of their children said they had to go because they were all getting together and going to see a movie.  It was their "Christmas Tradition" now to all go see a movie on Christmas Day.  So they all left and I sat alone in the middle of all of my weeks of Christmas Crap and cried the rest of the afternoon and vowed I would never do "all this" again. 

And I never have.  That was the last Christmas I was to ever have my entire family and it was also the Christmas that I realized that Christmas as we had always known it --was over.  Truly over.  
It was not something any of them wanted --a big traditional family Christmas  --was my dream because it was something I had never had as a child.  It was never theirs.  They had always had it so to them it was no more than an aggravating annual obligation that they could not wait to get away from.  

Kids grow up.  Grand kids grow up.  Life changes.  Traditions change.  It was heartbreaking and on top of everything else I had to grieve, I also grieved the loss of our family Christmas.  And so I haven't had Christmas since 2013.  

And I realized this morning that opting out of Christmas was never a rebellion.  It was just the end of an era.  One that's time had passed.  Family get-togethers, I had assumed, much like fruitcake and homemade bread, are a thing of the past.  They still have family traditions like going to a movie on Christmas Day and even family get-togethers at Christmas.  I'm just no longer a part of their family now...

Saturday, October 26, 2019

I Need...

Desperately to talk to someone.

And yet again I find myself with no one to talk to about all these emotions that keep pounding at me.  So again, I turn here.

My friend's son's situation has brought so many of the emotions that I've thought were long past - front and center.  I cannot be with him more than a few minutes before I start to fall apart.  I cry at the drop of a hat and feel so very unstable again.

Cancer has been the one thing that I have told myself could have been worse than what we had.  And now faced with watching cancer slowly, horrifically take a life I'm seeing firsthand the horrific side of watching your child suffer, be in pain, face the fear of dying and having that horror drag out - facing the loss over and over as you have the emotional highs and lows of terminal illness.  Grieving that loss many times over and still I know that that does not make the final grieving after death one ounce easier.  I'm not crazy enough to believe that for one minute.

But being the hopeless analytical that I am I've turned every side of this scenario over and over comparing it to what we had to deal with and I now also see that she may look at what she has and be glad she did not face what we did...

She has something we did not have.  She has time.  Precious, valuable, priceless time.

She can make up for all of the little things that she feels she did wrong by caring for his every need now.  She has time --to adjust to the possibility of the loss and make sure to say all of the things that keep me up nights.  She has time --to hug him and kiss him and cherish every nuance of his face. She has time --to listen to him, memorize his voice and hang on every word because she has the luxury of "knowing" everyday could be her last time.  She has time to watch while he sleeps and study his face so that she never forgets.  She has time --to bond with him like she hasn't had the chance to do in years while he was grown and living in another state.  She has time --to mother him once again and love him and make sure he knows how much.

Her family also has this time.  Her oldest son can be there for his brother; talk to him, physically do things for him to make him comfortable.  He can read to him, feed him, listen to him.  And in doing so he can salve any guilt feelings that he may have had from years of being estranged and later instead of drowning in guilt and shame like my oldest son, going over and over every harsh word that passed between them and turning bitter and biting at everyone he comes in contact with, her son will rest in knowing that he was there for him when he needed him.  And I pray that that keeps her son from running off the rails in his grief later.

His "people" have come out of the woodwork to be there for him and for her.  People that his chosen lifestyle has kept at bay for years.  He has that comfort.  They have that time.  He can die knowing everyone he ever cared about has been there for him.  If he ever questioned their love - he doesn't have to question it now.  He can rest knowing "He was loved."  He will not die alone.

And her friends and family, all the way to her husband's ex-wife have rallied to her side to help her deal with this sorrow and bear this sad horrific responsibility. I am so glad that she has this.  This is going to be the hardest thing she has ever had to face and I love her and I am so thankful she will have the comfort and support that she needs and is not having to bear it alone.

I know how much it hurts when you do not.

My conclusion?  There is no good way to do this.  There is no one way better than another to lose a child.  There are only bad ways.

I pray for her --peace that passes all understanding and for God's strength when hers in depleted.  I pray for everyone that can to come along side her for comfort and support.  I pray that our friendship survives this.  It was a miracle we survived one loss but it's a double hit so I have cause for concern.  I pray that I can be there for him without falling apart and I pray I can be there for her from here on out.



















Monday, October 21, 2019

Here Comes Another Wave...

Just like Brian said in the email I kept getting over and over five years after it was sent...five years after he died...

My best friend forever since we were five years old got a call from her youngest son last Thursday.  He was in the E.R. with severe back pain.  He thought he'd slipped a disk.  After his blood work an MRI and CT Scan his slipped disk turned out to be stage 4 metastatic cancer.  Lungs, pancreas and liver involved. I have known him all of his life --I have known of him before he had life. I was there when he was born.  He's 49 years old.  The same age my oldest son turned today.  They played together as children.

The doctors have said it is likely he will never leave the hospital.

Needless to say they are all in shock.  He is in denial and shock.  I am devastated for them.  All of them.  I have cried until I was sick.  Terribly sad for him and the life that he had planned that will now be left unfinished.  Devastated for my friend because I know what she does not know.  I know what is coming for her for many, many months and even years to come.

I know the sadness, the regrets, the guilt, the sleepless, endless nights; I know how this will change every part of her life and even her personality.  How it will change and even possibly destroy what's left of her small and dwindling family. I know the many facets of hurt that will hit her one right after the other.  How strangers and even people she loves will say the wrong things and hurt her and how friends that she thought would be there for her --will turn away and even family that can't handle the "grief-sodden" person that she will become and will grow weary of the sadness and try to hurry her past it and if she doesn't comply --eventually drop off the radar.

I know how she will call into question every belief she ever had about goodness and fairness in the world and even at times, doubt God's goodness and possibly grow weak in her faith.

I dread to the point of panic her having to face the decisions that she will eventually be faced with.  Decisions I was not faced with like making the choice for life support or not, hospice or home care, continued feeding or withholding nourishment and God-forbid, removal of life support.  Then there are the decisions I did have to make: Burial or cremation; scattering ashes or keeping them in an urn, vaults, caskets, memorial stones, memorial service or funeral, what to say, who to call on, music, preacher, graveside service.  These are all horrible, horrible decisions that a parent should NEVER have to make for their child.

I want to protect her from having to watch her child suffer to the point that "death", the most feared word a mother can imagine --will be the lesser of the two evils.  And cringe because I know I cannot.

I fear myself - saying the wrong thing and causing the pain so many have unknowingly caused me.  I pray I never do that.

I fear losing her after 61 years as friends as close as sisters.  Sounds ridiculous --but I know it can happen because I lost the closest friend I'd ever had after a 38-year friendship. I've lost my other two children because of it so yes, it can happen, and I know that.

I wish I could shield her from all that is ahead, but I cannot; no more than anyone could shield me from it.  I hope, I PRAY that I can be there for her.  Be there as someone that truly understands what she is going through.  I pray that I have learned something from all of this in order to be there for my friend like so many were for me when I went through it.  I pray that after the dozens of books I've read on the subject that I can say the right things and that I can minister to her in the way she needs.

We both see now why I was strategically placed "here" 17 miles from her instead of the 80 we had been.  We were never looking here.  We had no intentions of moving here.  We only looked at this one house and it was certainly not the house of our dreams and yet, here we are.

It was not for the reasons that I assumed - so that my son would come.  He doesn't.  It was not because it was an ideal location.  It certainly wasn't to help my daughter and I bond.  And we could never figure out - Why God would have chosen to put us here of all places.

I guess now I know.  God help me to carry forward the comfort that I have been given.




















Monday, September 16, 2019

The Fifth Anniversary...

Has come and gone and I'm glad August is in the rear view mirror.  I spent a solid month dreading it because milestones are always hard.  Problem is it isn't just the "day" of the anniversary it is more like the entire month.  I start getting weepy and depressed as July marches toward the end of summer.  And I stay that way until after Labor Day.  But as I've  mentioned August is a month full of significant days so I guess that's reasonable.

This was a milestone I was dreading mostly because it "has" been five years and I am still where I am at FIVE DANG YEARS later!  That alone is depressing.  And in some ways --not all ways but some, I'm worse than I was say three years out.  That I don't understand.  But I'm going to use this five year mark as a goal. The end of this "continuing to get worse" phase.  I am going to get better.  I am.

Still waiting for that "Beauty From Ashes" to show up.  I do get a little discouraged when I read about all that others have gleaned from the journey through loss and grief --even catastrophic loss.  And when I see the beauty from ashes in other people's stories or when I see that God has restored things to others in the wake of their loss because I know that is not possible in my case.  I am not, at 66 years old going to get another son.  I will never have another opportunity to be that close to another baby in my life. My daughter in law is not miraculously going to be replaced by a better, newer model.  So what exactly could "restoration" even look like for me?

I want to be positive.  I really do.  I want to believe things will get better but I can't see beauty from ashes and I can't see anything being "restored" in my life.  Five solid years out I watch and wait expectantly and still the losses continue to pile up.

I'm trying to stay busy.  I am trying to make new friends and create a solid social life albeit the landscape has changed drastically. Seems now I gravitate to those that have had and therefore understand --catastrophic loss. I am still reading non-stop; still searching for that one story that has the positive, happy ending that can give me the secret formula to overcoming this pain and heartache and the magic potion that will help me learn to not just live through this but enjoy living again in spite of this and tell me what steps to take in order to mitigate the steady stream of collateral losses.

I'm trying to do things - things I used to enjoy - looking for a spark that might ignite even a small flame of interest in something again.  I'm making the effort - which is a step forward I know since it was a long time before I cared to even try.

It was a huge step for me to attempt yet again to see a counselor.  Since that first year when I called about twenty with not so much as a single response and the one I did manage to wrangle up could not handle this and decided to just help me deal with the scheduling issues surrounding my sister's care and how to work in "grieving from the tragic loss of three members of my family" between a three hour commute in heavy Atlanta traffic daily to go for 6 to 12 hours a day 5 -days a week in the bone marrow clinic, juggling visits to an endocrinologist, gastroenterologist, pulmonologist in between along with regular trips to the hospital radiology department, dermatologist and respiratory therapist offices for testing or treatments, keeping up with a conglomeration of 28 medications, making sure the house was as germ-free and bacteria-free as possible, planning and preparing meals according to specific guidelines and doing laundry for four people on top of a full time job that I was then having to do at night after everything else was taken care of.  Granted I needed help for that.  But sadly got no help for the elephant or rather Mastadon in the room.

I think I've had maybe as much as five sessions with her and I got a letter about two weeks ago saying she was resigning.  Resigning.

Was it something that I said?






















Thursday, August 1, 2019

August

August 1.  The fifth August.

The month I dread all year long.  Other months bother me as well - March and December are always hard.

But August is the month that life as we knew it completely fell apart.  And every August still brings some of those exact same feelings  as from "that August" flooding back to cripple me.

August was the last time I ever saw them --my very last visit two weeks prior.  The last time I would ever hug and kiss Kara and Paxton and the last lost opportunity to hug Brian.  He was never comfortable with open shows of affection and that one day, I opted to give him a break and let him off without a hug.  Of course having no idea it would have been my last opportunity ever.

August was when I gave Kara her last birthday present - early something I never, ever do.  But that day I did.  I didn't know why I did but I did.  It would have been her 30th, she never lived to see it.

August is the month of her mother's birthday.  The day before they all died.  The last time she ever got to hear her daughter's beautiful voice.  She would never have another good birthday because every birthday from then on would bring back horrific memories.

August is the month of Brian's oldest son's birthday.  The next day after they were found.  He will never forget that birthday. And he will never have another birthday with his dad which was always a big day around their house his entire life.  He will never have another birthday that isn't tainted remembering his birthday 2014.

August - the month that marked the worst days of my life.  The 23rd, the day I was awakened at 4:00 am and burst into tears for no known reason.  The 23rd the day they actually died.  The 24th the day that is on their death certificates incorrectly marking the days of their lives.  Also the day I tried all morning with a pit of dread and fear in my stomach to reach them to no avail.  The 24th the day they were all found shot to death in the home I helped them purchase and forever I will wonder if I hadn't done that - could the outcome have been different?  The house that once was a great source of pride for both of them - a testament to his unbelievable talents as well as her love, hard work and determination --now a horrific murder scene, a memorial to wasted lives and devastating loss, sold to the highest bidder on the courthouse steps.

The rest of August after that a blur of questions, anger, grief, devastation, learning new words as they applied to my child and grandchild like cremation, autopsy, memorial service, urns, toxicology report, death certificate and then calls to people and places that have never touched my life before that day like the County Sheriff Department's Homicide Investigator,  the County Coroner's office, The GBI, The State Crime Lab.

The last day of August - Kara's birthday.

August - three birthdays and one horrific death day

No, August is not my favorite month.  It is a month I tiptoe through just trying to survive it without further collateral damage and hoping and praying that I will get to the other side of it as quickly as possible.

This is my 100th post on a blog I started four weeks after that first August five years ago that changed every part of my life forever.

Five years has given me a perspective that I had not had before and has brought things to mind that time and distance have caused me to connect like the dream I had about the train trestle when I was maybe 9 or 10 years old.  And there are other things like that.

One day I thought about a word I used to describe accurately the person I am today --"Broken". Broken in every sense of the word.  My spirit is broken.  My family is broken.  My life as it relates to hopes, dreams, aspirations --broken.  My relationships --all --broken.  And one day I walked into a restaurant and a country music song was playing.  A song by Larry Gatlin and The Gatlin Brothers.  I laughed out loud and thought of Brian as a three year old.  It was his very favorite song.  Anytime we were in the car and it came on the radio he would get wide-eyed and squeal with delight and scream out:

"Mama!, Broken Lady song -- Broken Lady song!"

I used to laugh knowing how literal small children think and I could see that from his three year old perspective he was picturing an actual lady broken into a million pieces like a glass figurine.

That day as I thought of that it stopped me dead in my tracks as I remembered the many, many times I had made reference to myself as being a broken person and suddenly it seemed like an accurate prophetic depiction from a three-year old and realized that what he pictured wasn't really that far off.





Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Lost

Fifty nine months and 6 days ago life as I knew it ceased to be.

At sixty-one I did not feel I had any time to lose.  At that point the average life expectancy for a woman was seventy-eight years old.  Since I was still working and not able to retire until 65 four years of that would be spent commuting in ridiculous traffic for threes hours a day and working on my job nine.  So from 65 to 78 I had maybe 7 good years and that is best case scenario.  At that point in your life, you really have no time to waste.  And here I sit here wondering how many days have gone by that I have no recollection of?  How many hours have I now spent sitting and staring into space; doing nothing and watching the hours of my life drift by?  Five years I have been existing like someone already dead that just hasn't fallen over yet.

These were the years we had worked and waited for.  We were going to travel and finally after 40 years of working and raising a family, get to enjoy a little of our lives before they were gone.  And here I sit day after day without the energy, stamina or desire to "do" anything.  I am wasting what time I've got left - living in a state of limbo - not dead - not living.  Just waiting.  I realize I'm doing this and I hate it but I cannot seem to find what it takes to pull out of this.  I seem to have lost my zest for life.  I've always been a goal-oriented person.  I make lists. I set five year goals, one year goals, monthly and daily goals. But now I have no goals.  Waking up that is my big goal.  What do you do when you have no direction? What do you live for if you have no dreams, no goals, no desires and no hope.

We do enjoy days together from time to time.  We talk a lot.  Unfortunately, "this" is mostly what we talk about.  We laugh and joke and I am certainly thankful for that.  But life isn't the same --not just in my family but in my head, in my spirit and in my heart.

I feel I am drifting aimlessly.  Sailing without navigation, without so much as a map and worse still without a destination.

I want to live life again.  I do.  I just can't seem to find my way out of this.  Writing used to be my life and now I try to write and I get lost and ramble.

How do you find your way back? Can you find your way back?  If so, pray tell how?

This is the result of being a survivor?

About as I always imagined.

Survivors - I always wondered at those people that build bomb shelters and stockpiled weapons, food and supplies - what would they have to live for in a world decimated by a nuclear bomb?  Why on earth would they want to survive?  Me --I've always said I hoped I'd go out with the first blast.

Now I really know how true that is.

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

What Grief Looks Like Today

I'm sure that almost five years in most people would think I would be well on my way out of the dark and while I am not in total darkness most of the time the shadows certainly still loom.

The thing is that I had been distracted for the most of that five years and while I have not tried to bury my grief in alcohol, drugs or the usual culprits I have, as I said once before, attempted with no success to "Type A" it into submission.

By nature I am a very logical, analytical person.  I'm a problem solver. A fixer. I assess the problem. Carefully consider my options. Gather my resources.  Attack.  So I set about to survive this the only way I knew how.  I have systematically gone through my bag of tricks, the things that have worked for me in the past with lesser trials --what else could I do?  I have no point of reference for such an enormous tragedy.  It's not like I can look back and say "Oh yeah, the last time this happened I did this or oh yes, when this happened to my friend Trina, she got through it by doing  that."

Nope.  Flying by the seat of my pants here.

So I have approached it striking at it with everything within my reach.  If I haven't gone through this before and no one I know has gone through this before so then we take the circle wider.  Surely somebody has gone through this before?  Right?  Not that I can find.  I know they have but nobody is talking about it.  That's because it is a taboo subject.  Because they are shamed into silence.  Because the last thing on earth you want to do is publicize it and draw attention to yourself.  Therefore there is no support out there that I can find for families of tragedies and the aftermath of this nature.  No websites.  No Blogs.  No How-to YouTube videos to instruct you on how you live through this and salvage what's left of your life and sanity. So logically --again I regroup.  What resources can I use that may be "close" to this? And the best I could come up with is grabbing a little here and a little there and piecing them into a weird mosaic of self-help.

I have read books - piles and piles of books searching, learning, taking notes looking desperately for that one magic book that is going to help me to dig out of this.  If I just keep reading surely I will find one that can: give me hope, give me inspiration, tell me how others have made it through, show me how to recover my faith in prayer, my trust in law enforcement, find my confidence in my abilities or fix my family.

We had shame and judgment from a murder accusation so I find a book about a mother whose son goes to prison for shooting someone.  How did she cope?  How did she maintain her sense of self?  How did she face the public?  How did she fight for her son? Does she tell people and if so, how?

We had a media circus and circumstances with the investigation that made us lose faith in our justice system so I find a book about a couple that lost their precious child and then were promptly thrown into defense mode when they were the first and only suspects.  How did they survive it?  How did they walk around in public when they were so well recognized from the media circus that was created from their tragic circumstances?  How were they ever able to even grieve their child when their lives and family and freedom were on the line from day one?  How did they ever trust law enforcement again?  How did they ever find their faith?

We had the death of multiples, that resulted in other families losing loved ones.  As a result we bore undeserved guilt so I find another about a mother whose son was a famed school shooter.  She was hated. Stalked. Not allowed to grieve her son.  Thrown in to a nightmare of a life.  How did she cope?  How did she find beauty from the ashes?  How did she survive?

Then I start breaking it down into the individual parts; books on surviving a tragedy;  books on losing a child; books on grief in general; books on Complicated Grief, books on Disenfranchised Grief. (I had never even heard that term before I was living it.) Then I moved onto faith.  I found a book about faith in the face of tragedy, Finding Hope in horrible circumstances, How to let God fight your battles and on and on.

What I have learned is that there are others that have it worse than me and that you cannot fix an illogical circumstance with logic.  You cannot stop grieving your family by reading a book or a hundred books.  Grief is not dealt with by systematically checking things off of a list.

I have been in survival mode for so long until I forgot how to come out.  "Breathe.  Put one foot in front of the other.  Do the next thing.  Keep busy."  And part of my survival tactic was to not look this full in the face and feel what I feel.  I ran desperately from my feelings because the pain was unbearable and I was afraid if I let myself fully absorb all of this I would sink to a place I could not come back from.

What does grief feel like today?  It feels like sadness. Fear. Shame. Guilt. Sorrow.  Remorse.  Frustration.  Hopelessness. Deep, deep emptiness. Pure physical pain. Confusion. Crazy. Anger. Betrayal. Lethargy. Mistrust. Insecurity.  And did I mention crazy? 

Sadness for the huge loss of my youngest son, the life of the party, the practical joker, the loving and loyal dad whose love and many talents are now wasted.  Sadness for the loss of the baby that I finally let myself relax and love with abandon.  How I miss those tiny hands and feet and how I long to bury my face in his soft baby hair and smell that sweet baby smell, to hold him, rock him, roll fire trucks with him and hear him laugh hysterically when we play hide and seek behind the sofa pillows and I finally "find" him, watch him run a million miles down my driveway pushing his toy. And how sad I feel at the waste of the life and talent and beauty and blatant honesty that was my daughter in law - she loved life so much and it was cut short before she had a chance to even live it. And sadness and deep guilt for her parents; the only other people in the world that know our same loss.

Fear of literally everything now.  I went from fearing nothing in the beginning when I didn't have enough sense to care --to fearing everything as my world is now so shaky, unpredictable, temporary, unstable and small. 

Insecure as my innocence in believing such as this could never happen to us has been forever shattered and I now live knowing my world can be rocked beyond belief with one phone call.  All of my life I'd believed God would surely protect my family like I prayed. I know now that is not true. You can pray till the cows come home and the worst of the worst can still happen.

Shame, Guilt & Remorse because I chose not to see them; guilt that I couldn't have fought harder for the truth because I felt I had to put the living above the dead; shame because my logical mind thought of that; guilt because there is another family has this same god-awful pain and loss and they believe my son caused it...

Anger at myself first and foremost for not having the strength it took to see them or keep up the fight for the truth; anger at the Sheriff's Department, anger at the Deputy Coroner, anger at the media, anger at everyone that had ever hurt Brian, anger at the general public that did not think I should love and grieve my son.  Anger at God and then add that to the top of the list of things I'm angry at myself about.

This is what it feels like today.  And still it is soooooo much better than it was.



Friday, September 21, 2018

Some days...

Today is one of those days when just walking by my computer sets the tone for my day.  The screensaver picture is one I took of Paxton up at our barn sitting on a log.  They are all precious.

I would sometimes just follow him around with the camera and let him be "him"; running, playing, climbing, throwing leaves up in the air --whatever he found to do while I snapped away.  The hundreds and hundreds of pictures of him that I took in the few short years that we had him can attest to that.  I've never done that.  I realize now what a gift that was that I did as they now are all I have.


Some days it is still so hard; so painful and so raw.  Other days - I'm visibly better.   Some days these memories are treasures that make me smile and I could just sit and flip through hundreds of them at a sitting.  Today, they are treasures that do just the opposite.  I want to turn away quickly because they hurt with a fresh, deep, agonizing, physically painful hurt.  Just walking by them made me burst into tears. 

Best to do on days like this? Focus on helping others.  It helps me.  It helps "me" way more than it helps them. I find I desperately need to stay busy and keep my mind occupied and off of the sadness which at any given moment without warning can totally ambush me and sidetrack my entire day.  And I still need my time to cry but at least most of the time I am able to control when and where I cry --so that is an improvement.

I am so glad I naively did not realize I could still be "here" over four years later.  In many ways, as impossible as it seems, it is actually worse.  I do wonder when it will stop getting worse.  That news alone would have been more than I could have overcome in the beginning.  

One day at a time.  One step at a time.  One ambush at a time.

Today is not a good day but tomorrow will be better.





Wednesday, September 13, 2017

The Obituary

Last week I found out online that my ex-mother-in-law had passed away - I have not seen her in over 40 years.  Three days from the three year anniversary of Brian, Kara and Paxton's death.  Her obituary shows being survived by two sons and four grandsons - one of them being Brian.  Great grans are also named - all of course except his three children.  That should tell you how close they were.  He has a twenty-six year old son that she had never met.  A twenty-one year old beautiful granddaughter that she had never met and a great-great grandson that she never met and she lost a two year old grandson she never knew existed. 


She, I'm sure, played a large part in his feelings of loss and abandonment.  He had tried to have a relationship with her after she made the first and only effort to contact him back in 1997.  He was so excited that she had called.  He invited her to his daughter's first birthday party.  And actually believed she was going to come...of course she never showed.  He tried to hide his hurt and disappointment and I tried to silence my raging anger at them hurting him yet again.  When she called me and asked how she could get in touch with Brian - her words were: "After all, he's my grandson just like the rest." like she was justifying to herself why she had a right to try and contact him.  


I asked about her family and she tells me nonchalantly that she had lost her youngest son seven years prior.  I was shocked and saddened that no one had bothered to tell Brian.  He had always really loved Marty and was devastated at the news.  I was very nice to her and gave her Brian's number and they spoke several times. But apparently she was actually just curious as to why he stopped showing up at her family Christmases because when she finally got the story on the falling out between he and his dad, the calls all ceased. And since his last family Christmas with her had been when he was fourteen.  Apparently it had not bothered her bad enough to reach out for ten long years. 


A few years later, my ex-brother in law's only son, Chris was killed in a car accident shortly after he graduated and strangely enough she called to tell me that.  We talked several times shortly after his death and I expressed my deepest and sincerest sympathies and comforted her as best I could.  I sent a card to the family. And a week or so later she called again to ask me how I knew about Chris?  Now after living through the shock of that kind of loss I understand why she may not remember it but she acted as if I'd been stalking her and denied ever calling to tell me?


Six years ago I had a nagging of conscience when I realized she would now be over 80 years old and didn't even know her grandson or his children.  I reached out to her and told her I'd come up and bring all of them to see her if she'd like.  She told me she did not think that would be a good idea.  She didn't think we should: "Mix and mingle the two families" and that things were best left as they were.  I was literally speechless.  I had never been so cut down and made to feel so stupid in my life. I never told Brian I had called her I wanted to shield him from any further rejection from that hurtful family.


One of the joys of Facebook (not a fan.) was that he searched for and found his step-mom on Facebook back in 2008 and contacted her in hopes I guess of opening the door to some communication.  He remembered her always being nice to him as a child when he went for his every other weekend visits.  She was apparently cold and distant to him and had nothing to say to him except - "Have a nice life."  Code for: "please don 't ever contact us again."  He was clearly hurt by it and was literally fighting back tears when he told me about it and then refused to ever talk about it again. 


For five years Kara had tried to get him to make contact with them -- especially his two half brothers.  He refused.  He said, he had a dad and he was the one that raised him and cared about him and he had no need to contact them.  I know he wanted to but was protecting himself from any further rejection and so never would.  He was not even aware at the time that his brother's even knew of his existence.  They were very young the last time he ever saw them.  The oldest maybe three or four and the youngest only a few months old.  He didn't want to upset their life in the event that they did not know about him.


When Brian died my other son insisted I contact Brian's dad and let him know.  He said I was not being fair to him because he had a right to know.  Brian was his son. 


I refused.  I did however tell him I had his phone number and address and would give it to him if he felt the need.  He was free to call him if he felt it was the right thing to do but that I, personally, felt like if he wanted nothing to do with Brian while he was alive then chances are it would not matter to him that he was dead.  If he had not cared for Brian in life why would he care now.  As far as I know, he never made that call or if he did - then I was right because he never showed up at the Memorial service.  And today I find him listed on his grandmother's obituary as being one of her surviving family - three years after he died.


This is so sad to me.  I try to forgive everyone and let God alone be their judge but I am human and it is sometimes harder with some than others.  How could a father just turn away from his 17 year old son and never look back - like he didn't matter?  Like he had never existed?  How do you do that? Surely there is justice in the next life for people like that?  Surely.