A Time for Action

When do you know that someone's crossed the line, that it's time to take action??

My son died 9 days ago.  It was unexpected; it was his ... choice.   I have no answers, no real reason for what happened.  I'm left with the aftermath of planning a funeral, picking out an urn, cleaning up the details of his life. 

I am the one who found him.
I am the one interrogated by police doing their jobs to figure out what happened.
I am the one who had to call in to his job and tell them what happened.
I am the one who had to make those calls to family and let them know.
I am the one Brian waved goodbye to that morning before I left for work.
I am the one who searched high and low for a note, a clue, a word.
I am the one who didn't sleep for 2 days and nights because I couldn't get his image out of my head.
I am the one who had to call a funeral home to make arrangements for him to be cremated.
I am the one who had to select the urn, sign the death certificate.
I am the one who will go through the rest of my life without my son.

The weekend before he died, we had a few conversations.  He told me he broke up with his GF of four years right before he moved back home.  He had been dating someone else from work for the past two weeks, but they broke up that weekend as well.  As far as I was concerned, that was the end of things between me and these women.  My son is where my alliance is.

This week, two separate incidences, notes were taped to my car.  I get phone calls in the late hours of night.  I get text messages that are long and involved ... and mostly self centered drama from both of them.   In trying for the high road, I declined to acknowledge or answer them.  But I couldn't resist and texted back:  My son DIED.  Please leave me to grieve and mourn in peace.

But it doesn't stop there.  More texts.  Then more written on my son's memorial page ... non of it being a remembrance of Brian.  I closed that page. 

This feels like cyber bullying -- with threats about hiring lawyers added in.
There is no money, unless you count what's been spent outgoing by me and my family in order to have a decent remembrance.   And she's sullying that memory.
It may be time for action.