Every now and then the “crazy” surfaces, makes it’s presence known, takes over. I don’t always know it either. I find myself drifting off. I feel like my son is leaving me all over again and I am grabbing at anything to keep me tethered to him and his memory. I think I feel like I am letting things (NOT HIM) go slowly; I don’t think I am supposed to, and I don’t consciously WANT to.
I scrolled through my phone messages from him..some of the last ones. Since I am NOT so tech savvy I had to save these words/messages the best way I could. I did screenshots. I will print them out and put them with the other items I have carefully stored in the designated cedar chest. The last ones are from Jessica(his lady/his love/my new-now daughter) from the hospital and they came after what I would later find out, was after he had been pronounced.
The room is not exactly as he left it, but there are things I have not moved. I think of the irony..the only Christmas decorations that will be in this house this year are the ones HE left behind in his room. I tell myself I am not as strange as some folks are, but I am lying to myself. I am as fucking strange and weird as they come, and many times I don’t care what you think of me. That is not mean or rude, it is real.
As I navigate through each day something will make me think of my child who is no longer with me and I WILL cry. I may not cry long, but I will hurt and the tears will flow. Sometimes I imagine myself screaming, or cowering in a corner, or collapsing to the ground. I ask myself will any of these particular acts bring me closer to closure or solace, then I ask how can I ever suggest I will EVER have those things in regards to my son as long as I live on this Earth. Each day I am learning to live a life I did not plan for, and one I do NOT want.
I want my son back..I know I cannot have him, but that does NOT change how I feel.