by connie veilleux
My youngest child, Adam, died March 12, 2011. He was 22 years old. It amazes me that we can continue to live when we are in this much pain. Sometimes I wonder how people can see me and not know that I am screaming inside. I daydream about going someplace off the beaten path and screaming until I cant scream anymore. I am afraid that if I lose control, I will never get it back. I keep telling my husband and our other children that we all grieve in our own way, and that there is no right or wrong way, but I can't help but think that I am doing it wrong. I want to rip my hair out and wear black clothes, and beat my chest, but instead I go to work, and cry like I am hiding something. I want other people to feel my pain, yet I would never wish this on anybody. I want to relive March 11th over again and somehow stop this from happening. He was my baby. He was my baby.