Christmas Eve has been hard for me for the last 5 years. We saw Devlin in the funeral home for the last time on this day. The boys kept wanting to go see him and would play next to his casket for as long as we let them. On this day I made them say goodbye to him for the last time. I kissed his forehead for the last time.
We couldn't bury him until 27th because of the snow and I felt like a horrible mother because I couldn't keep going to the funeral home to see him like that. He didn't look like my child. They did not do a good job with him. I don't know why I felt so bad about not visiting him in the mortuary. Had we been able to bury him when we'd originally planned on the 22nd, I wouldn't have visited him every day at the cemetery but it felt like I was betraying him by not spending all the time that I could with him. Even though I knew he was gone. Even though I know he wouldn't have wanted me to. Even though no one else expected me to.
I felt so bad telling the boys they could no longer go see their brother but I was barely holding it together by this point. That year being Santa was easy. I was so numb to most things and had already bought and wrapped everything before he died so I was well ahead of the game. The next year was a completely different story. Marc checked out that night and I ended up doing it all. I was so angry and hurt. I didn't want to do it either but I couldn't let the boys suffer for it. He promised not to do it again and has been good to his word.
We have started a family tradition since that night five years ago. We spend it just the four of us. We bake cookies, we open a present, we read a book, we relax, and we spend time as a family. I never know how I'm going to be that day. Today is one of the hardest I've had since 2007. I can honestly say that one was worse. This one is no picnic but I keep reminding myself that have family and friends that love me and support me and would be here in a second if I called them up to let them know I needed them. I have a loving husband who is patiently waiting for me to lean on him a little. I have two beautiful, funny, loving children who will snuggle with me when I ask. I have an angel who might not be here physically but lets me know that he visits me often with songs he plays and butterflies he sends.
I'm not really posting this with any reason behind it. More of a way to get some of these thoughts and feelings out so I don't edge any closer to true insanity then I already am. Although, I prefer to think of it as being an eclectic personality. I cannot wait to be an old lady so I can just randomly say the things that pop into my head. For those of you who know me, you know how scary that will be. For those of you who sort of know me, you have no idea how scary that's going to be! You think I'm weird now? Just you wait. Mwuahahahaha....
How I continue to survive the loss of my son through humor. How I also continue to survive this thing we call life with sarcasm and wit. (Well, I guess how witty depends on who you ask. The sarcasm is pretty in your face...)
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Depression lies
Where to start?
I had been thinking that I needed to start blogging again but as with most things I've started lately, I just haven't found the energy to complete that thought.
I thought that today would be a good time to start.
I decided on today because it was a wake up call for me. My husband and I attended the funeral of a man who took his own life. Before you read any further, if you are going to judge this man for his actions, please just leave my page.
This man was a kind, funny, generous man who gave so much of himself to others, I think that he forgot to keep some for himself. His name was Matthew Still. He was a husband, father, son, and friend. We met Matt 3 weeks after our youngest son died. Matt and his wife, Linda, lost their daughter to SIDS the same year that Marc and I lost Devlin but 11 months before us. Matt was at our first meeting. He sat and listened to us talk about the horrifying experience we had just found ourselves in. He listened to our pain and shared his own. In the following months we learned more about each and shared both laughter and tears. In the following years, we would only see each other on occasion as happens with life. I enjoyed Matt very much and he always had a ready smile.
I learned yesterday that Matt was dead and that his service was today. Upon arriving at the church, I found that Matt had taken his own life. This has shaken me to my soul. I would never fathomed the depth of pain that he had kept bottled up. He always seemed so easy going. I had seen him only 3 months ago and would never have dreamed that I would never see him again.
It just goes to show the sorrow that we all hide from the world, partly for our own sanity, partly for everyone else's.
I have been suffering from depression lately and have been in a funk for awhile. I know that a good portion of that is that I keep pushing my grief farther and farther down. I only let myself feel a little at a time. I'm scared that if I let myself feel to much at once, I might shatter into a million pieces and I'm afraid all the pieces will never fit back together again. Devlin's 5th anniversary is coming up in just over two weeks and I feel so raw and bruised right now. I have no emotional energy left today.
I realize now that I need to let myself feel. What is ironic about this is I spend time with parents newer to the grief process and coach them to do this very thing. It is always so much easier to tell someone what they should be doing than to follow your own advice. I know many of them think, as I thought of Matt, that I have it so much more together.
Do I feel that I'm lying to them? No, I think that going through this process, you have to see someone who looks like they are holding it all together so you have something to aspire to and also to know that you can make it through the pain. I think it's also good for them to see both in smaller and not so small ways that after all this time I don't have it all together. It's important to understand that you will always have your rough days in addition to your good days. The more you remember that, the less likely it will hit you upside the head like a sledgehammer and send you into a spiral. Again, it takes constant reminders to be gentle with myself.
I guess what I'm trying to say in a really round-about, rambling way, is that you never know the depths of pain someone is feeling at any given point. If you are that person, find someone to reach out to. As one of my favorite bloggers says, Depression is a lying bastard. Do not let it win. I know this is easier said than done, but you are worth the effort it will take. There is someone out there who will keenly feel your loss even if you are feeling that is not the case.
I will miss your laugh, Matt. I will miss your smile. I am incredibly sad that I could not return the favor you bestowed on me. Rest in peace and know that you will be missed.
I had been thinking that I needed to start blogging again but as with most things I've started lately, I just haven't found the energy to complete that thought.
I thought that today would be a good time to start.
I decided on today because it was a wake up call for me. My husband and I attended the funeral of a man who took his own life. Before you read any further, if you are going to judge this man for his actions, please just leave my page.
This man was a kind, funny, generous man who gave so much of himself to others, I think that he forgot to keep some for himself. His name was Matthew Still. He was a husband, father, son, and friend. We met Matt 3 weeks after our youngest son died. Matt and his wife, Linda, lost their daughter to SIDS the same year that Marc and I lost Devlin but 11 months before us. Matt was at our first meeting. He sat and listened to us talk about the horrifying experience we had just found ourselves in. He listened to our pain and shared his own. In the following months we learned more about each and shared both laughter and tears. In the following years, we would only see each other on occasion as happens with life. I enjoyed Matt very much and he always had a ready smile.
I learned yesterday that Matt was dead and that his service was today. Upon arriving at the church, I found that Matt had taken his own life. This has shaken me to my soul. I would never fathomed the depth of pain that he had kept bottled up. He always seemed so easy going. I had seen him only 3 months ago and would never have dreamed that I would never see him again.
It just goes to show the sorrow that we all hide from the world, partly for our own sanity, partly for everyone else's.
I have been suffering from depression lately and have been in a funk for awhile. I know that a good portion of that is that I keep pushing my grief farther and farther down. I only let myself feel a little at a time. I'm scared that if I let myself feel to much at once, I might shatter into a million pieces and I'm afraid all the pieces will never fit back together again. Devlin's 5th anniversary is coming up in just over two weeks and I feel so raw and bruised right now. I have no emotional energy left today.
I realize now that I need to let myself feel. What is ironic about this is I spend time with parents newer to the grief process and coach them to do this very thing. It is always so much easier to tell someone what they should be doing than to follow your own advice. I know many of them think, as I thought of Matt, that I have it so much more together.
Do I feel that I'm lying to them? No, I think that going through this process, you have to see someone who looks like they are holding it all together so you have something to aspire to and also to know that you can make it through the pain. I think it's also good for them to see both in smaller and not so small ways that after all this time I don't have it all together. It's important to understand that you will always have your rough days in addition to your good days. The more you remember that, the less likely it will hit you upside the head like a sledgehammer and send you into a spiral. Again, it takes constant reminders to be gentle with myself.
I guess what I'm trying to say in a really round-about, rambling way, is that you never know the depths of pain someone is feeling at any given point. If you are that person, find someone to reach out to. As one of my favorite bloggers says, Depression is a lying bastard. Do not let it win. I know this is easier said than done, but you are worth the effort it will take. There is someone out there who will keenly feel your loss even if you are feeling that is not the case.
I will miss your laugh, Matt. I will miss your smile. I am incredibly sad that I could not return the favor you bestowed on me. Rest in peace and know that you will be missed.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
People say stupid stuff...
There are many things I've learned in life. The thing that seems to be the most prevalent in recent years is, people say stupid stuff. Some days it bothers me. Generally I can ignore it. I mean, I say stupid stuff too. I get it. Today was one of the days that I was able to walk away and ignore it.
I had two men in tonight and we were talking about skydiving. (Hang in here, there is a back story.) We talked about how none of us have ever wanted to nor planned on ever doing it. I mentioned that I came close last year to doing it because I had had two gentlemen in the bar who had both said they would donate $1000 to my charity if I would do it. This led to a discussion on what my charity is. For the last 4 1/2 years I have donated my time to Angel Eyes which is a non-profit who helps out families like mine who have lost an infant or child to SIDS, SUID, SUDC, or other unexplained causes. I showed the men the blurb we have posted at work (my job has been very supportive of Angel Eyes) and explained about Angel Eyes. They started making jokes about SUDS, not sure where that came from, and in general made a spectacle of themselves. I chose to walk away before I got angry. I work in a bar and people get drunk and they, say it with me now, SAY STUPID THINGS! After coming back to the bar they finally asked how I got involved and I told them about my youngest son, Devlin. While I did chose to walk away and not get upset, I could not help but feel a little bit giddy about the stricken expressions that they had.
I have been in this position before and I did not take it quite as well that time. The man in this instance was even more insensitive and I really had a hard time not leaping across the bar where I work. He kept saying that he had suffered from SIDS and still did and then started laughing about it. You could tell he had no idea what he was talking about. This conversation had been spurred on by the ribbon lapel pin that I wear so he knew it was something personal for me. Luckily, I had two phenomenal ladies who had just sat down when he started talking. They lit into the man big time which I was very thankful for since I was at work and couldn't tell him off like he so richly deserved. He left with his tail tucked between his legs and I bought them a round of drinks.
I wish that I could say that I don't care about the stupid things people say. For the most part I manage. I learned early into my grieving process that since people generally didn't know what to say, they would say stupid things. I forgive them those for the most part because at least they are trying to talk to me about it or are acknowledging that it happened.
I had two men in tonight and we were talking about skydiving. (Hang in here, there is a back story.) We talked about how none of us have ever wanted to nor planned on ever doing it. I mentioned that I came close last year to doing it because I had had two gentlemen in the bar who had both said they would donate $1000 to my charity if I would do it. This led to a discussion on what my charity is. For the last 4 1/2 years I have donated my time to Angel Eyes which is a non-profit who helps out families like mine who have lost an infant or child to SIDS, SUID, SUDC, or other unexplained causes. I showed the men the blurb we have posted at work (my job has been very supportive of Angel Eyes) and explained about Angel Eyes. They started making jokes about SUDS, not sure where that came from, and in general made a spectacle of themselves. I chose to walk away before I got angry. I work in a bar and people get drunk and they, say it with me now, SAY STUPID THINGS! After coming back to the bar they finally asked how I got involved and I told them about my youngest son, Devlin. While I did chose to walk away and not get upset, I could not help but feel a little bit giddy about the stricken expressions that they had.
I have been in this position before and I did not take it quite as well that time. The man in this instance was even more insensitive and I really had a hard time not leaping across the bar where I work. He kept saying that he had suffered from SIDS and still did and then started laughing about it. You could tell he had no idea what he was talking about. This conversation had been spurred on by the ribbon lapel pin that I wear so he knew it was something personal for me. Luckily, I had two phenomenal ladies who had just sat down when he started talking. They lit into the man big time which I was very thankful for since I was at work and couldn't tell him off like he so richly deserved. He left with his tail tucked between his legs and I bought them a round of drinks.
I wish that I could say that I don't care about the stupid things people say. For the most part I manage. I learned early into my grieving process that since people generally didn't know what to say, they would say stupid things. I forgive them those for the most part because at least they are trying to talk to me about it or are acknowledging that it happened.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Trying this whole blogging thing
Alright. So I'm new to this whole blogging thing.
That being said, I'm starting this for two main reasons. The first is to reach parents and others who have also suffered a loss. Through the loss of my son, I have become a mentor of sorts to other parents who have lost children. I don't have all the answers, in fact most days I'm not sure I have any of them. I do talk to a lot of people and we share our experiences and somehow find a way to muddle through. The second is completely selfish. I like to talk. A lot. It's part of the reason I am a bartender. I often have more things to say then there is time to insert into a conversation.
I'm not really sure where I want this first blog to go. I think I'll use it mainly as a introduction piece and hope that now that I've decided to start a blog, I won't run out of things to say. Stranger things have happened...
That being said, I'm starting this for two main reasons. The first is to reach parents and others who have also suffered a loss. Through the loss of my son, I have become a mentor of sorts to other parents who have lost children. I don't have all the answers, in fact most days I'm not sure I have any of them. I do talk to a lot of people and we share our experiences and somehow find a way to muddle through. The second is completely selfish. I like to talk. A lot. It's part of the reason I am a bartender. I often have more things to say then there is time to insert into a conversation.
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