Reliving It All (Part 3)

Dear Brian:

With the holiday in between, there were so many things we didn't know.  Everyone wanted closure.  The mortuary was trying to work with us and the ME's office transporting your body.  They were going to advise us to see if we were able to do a viewing.  Because of the time delay, your dad drove up on Friday afternoon.  He came to the house, jerked his head because he wanted to talk to me in the other room.  Yeah, you know the move I'm talking about. hehe.  He asked "What the hell happened?"  and I told him (again)  I don't have any answers for myself, let alone for you.  I don't know, I can only guess.

There are many misconceptions about a person who is considered "suicidal", as if they walk around ranting and raving before hand.  But that's not reality.  And in your case, I could tell there was a difference in your behavior from before you moved in with Michelle to after you moved back home.  Three years changes most people, especially young men. I didn't have any more answers for your dad that day, or even now.

We showed him the note you left.  He wasn't handling things very well.  Maybe there's some guilt because he hadn't seen you in three years.  But I told him that was between him and you, and I'm not going to accept any of that guilt.  Yes, I lived in town.  Yes, I sometimes made up excuses to see you -- asking for help with a household task, or bringing a meal to the family.  At least it was a connection, and that was important to me.   But I got away from my story....

Later in the afternoon on Friday, the mortuary called and they were pretty adamant about not having a family viewing.  I agreed, because I didn't plan on going.  And my advice to the rest of them was this:  Remember Brian as you last saw him.  You don't want to see him this way.  They agreed in the end.

The rest of Friday was spent doing little chores, having a meal, and looking things up on the internet, trying to find a place to hold a service.  You weren't churched and it seemed like the wrong move to have some kind of ... funeral.  We decided on a Celebration of Life ceremony, and because I couldn't locate any other kind of place, opted for the library.  And that seemed very fitting.   When we first moved to Arizona, we spent every Thursday after work going to the library for books, CDs and Videos to keep us entertained.  Then we had Taco Bell for dinner.  As I was thinking it all over,  we did this for like five years!!   HA! We got into such a rut.  But it was our day for spending time together.  And I miss that.  It's funny what you miss after it's gone.

Because I work retail, there were things going on and I had to work Saturday and Sunday.  The kids loaded up and drove home on Saturday as well.  It was oddly nice to have something relatively normal to do for a change.  The day passed as quick as work days do ..... but looking back, I know I wasn't my normal self.  I could only keep one thought at a time in my head; an interruption meant starting a work task over again.  There were notes I wrote and couldn't read later because they didn't make any sense.

At the end of that weekend, we all survived as best we knew how.
We knew there was more heartache to come as arrangements were made.
Even now, more than three weeks later, my mind still leaves little holes as I go about my day

I hate knowing that you're not coming back,
that you won't be around to help me do those odd little chores.
I hope you're in a happier place now.
We all love you and miss you bunches.
Love,

Mom

Conversations in My Head

Dear Brian:

I find myself awake in the wee hours of the morning, running through our last conversations.  And I keep wondering "If I had said *this* instead of *that* , would it have made a difference?"

We didn't talk about things that were happening or had happened right after you moved home.  Because I know you so well, I thought giving you time and space to get your thoughts gathered up was the right thing to do.  As I look back, was that the right thing?? 

It's always how it was in the past.   You'd have something on your mind and you'd walk into the room I was in and let out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within your chest.   You'd sigh again, and sometimes a third time.  I just waited until you had the courage to come out with it.   And maybe there was something in the past between us that made it so that you didn't feel you could just blurt out whatever you needed to say.   I realize that I can't change the past, or the dynamics of our relationship. 

The struggle was real;  whatever you were going through this last time, I'll admit, I don't understand.  And I am practical enough to know that I probably never will. 

If we had just one more conversation;
If I had insisted on getting away on a vacation;
If I .....

Those what if's will haunt me for a long time.

I love you son, from the day you were born, until the day I die.
See you in heaven some day!
Love, Mom

Being Vulnerable

“When you love someone, truly love them, you lay your heart open to them. 

You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, 

and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt-

you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest 

and most painfully on your heart and soul. And when they do strike,

 it’s crippling-like having your heart carved out.” 

~Sherrilyn Kenyon

“What happens when people open their hearts?"...

"They get better.” 

~Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Opening yourself to someone else makes you feel vulnerable.

Letting yourself be vulnerable to someone 

else can hurt.  But you can't truly love 

someone if you don't.

I'd rather take a chance on being open, 

and being hurt,

than closing myself off 

and not loving at all. 

I think the word 'vulnerable' has gotten a bad rep, as if its a sign of weakness.  When in fact its more about showing the most private pieces of yourself, and that doesn't make you weak.   It's about harnessing the necessary strength to be open and authentic. 

I've recently made some discoveries about myself.  With most people, I smile and say those little things that everyone else says, what I call breezy small talk.  Its a very rare moment for me when I go beyond that, open myself up and say whatever.  I know that its a self protection mechanism.  And I know I have to let go of it, to be willing to open myself up a little more.  Every day I try a little more, smile at strangers - not the I'm at work, how can I help you smile - the genuine one that says "Hi, I'm worth getting to know."

A little progress.  Every Day.