The Price Of Love

"It is truly remarkable what people in deep turmoil will tell you if you truly listen to what they are saying.  More often than not, they will spill some of the pattern of repeated dark words, thoughts and fantasies that have been spiraling in their heads so relentlessly, so furiously, that they have entered a trance that has eliminated all other thoughts.  If the spiral continues without break, they will essentially talk themselves to the point where the pain of dying seems less than the pain of living.  That's how suicide works."

This is a quote from the book "Deadly Cross" by James Patterson.

And when I read these lines, it brought a touch of comfort regarding the loss of my son.  I know that my son was a lot like me, he lived a good part of his life in his head.  I'm not sure that makes sense to everyone but if you've ever overthought a situation, that's kind of how it is.  And I can see that if he got stuck on a certain thought, it spiraled 'round and 'round until it took over.  

It makes me sad to think that he couldn't reach out past the spiral and get some kind of help. It makes me sad to think that I didn't act on my hunch of loading him into the car and taking him to my mother's for a break from the routine of it all.  

I know that carrying this burden for the rest of my life will weigh me down.  And it's not easy to know that he carried his burdens until he couldn't carry them any longer.  Grief is never ending; and I know I've said it before:  there is nothing like losing a child.  My dad is gone, my sister is gone, even my favorite dog is gone, but I'm still the saddest over losing my son.  He was my reason for buying the small house, living near bus lines, getting it paid off so he'd have a place to grow old.  

Grief is like having a suitcase that you have to lug around everywhere with you:  it's always there, it adds a whole lot of weight to your travels.  And it's a process that never ends.   It's the price of love.