Ramblings and Reflections of a Greif Stricken Zombie
by Anonymous Momma
1967-my dad died at the age of 27 on my brother's bday
1982-mom has pear sized tumor removed from her brain
1983-house catches fire. mom put in nursing home afterwards.
1989-I have an "adenoma" (small tumor) on my brain.
1993-mom dies at age 53
2007-husband almost dies from West Nile. Lasting speech and physical disabilities. Grandma dies and relatives don't even let us know.
2012-Son in horrible car wreck has miraculous recovery in one month's time instead of 8 week prediction.
2013-Same son-another wreck (10 months later). Dies at age 21.
Expect sarcasm (I'm famous for it) Ignorant people have:
came up to me and said things like, "THAT was a really BAD wreck!" No kidding? My son is dead. Duh.
Asked for specifics. Just because I'm not crying in your face doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
Sent me PICTURES even after I was very specific about not wanting to see pictures. Thanks for that. These play over and over in my over active imagination like a BAD movie.
Have shown my younger son (age 19) pictures.
One lady left a beer can on my son's grave because that's how everybody wants their loved one remembered, right? She sent me a text the day of the funeral at 11 at night telling me she couldn't find my son. Imagine what I WANTED to say. I was nice and told her how to find the grave.
One "friend" unfriended me, all my friends, and my dead son because I was too stressed at the hospital to return her phone calls every single time. She still calls and leaves me messages because she doesn't know that I know she 'unfriended' me. Sorry that hurt.
And then you have the people who let you know what they want that was your sons. Back off stupids.
The pastor hinted at the funeral that my son might not have made it to the other side based on the George Strait song we selected to be played. This has brought me more pain than all the other stuff. My son told me about a month before he passed that he knew he had made a lot of mistakes but wanted me to know he believed in God. I told him: That's all it takes. Profess with your mouth, believe in your heart and ask for forgiveness. He also hounded his little brother the last couple of weeks of his life saying, "you better believe in God." Apparently in the Pastoral world none of this counted.
My son's ghost has been seen at least twice. Once by my husband and the other by one of my son's close friends. I pray every night for God to bring my son to him and to tell him again that I love him. I don't want him walking this earth but living eternally in Heaven.
A relative that we broke off contact with in 2005 re-wrote and re-posted my son's obituary after we had already published it in the big city paper. Really? Yes. Another Aunt who knew we prefer no contact with that relative called those family members up to share the news of our son's death. And then she shared the response with me: "I don't care."
I have been raising funds for a scholarship to create the only legacy my son will ever have. My son had over 600 friends on FB. His closest friends haven't even given a dollar, but they would have dragged him to a bar and bought him a drink.
My heart is broken and will never be whole again. Just when I think my life can't possibly get any worse it does. This one hurts the most. Most people think I'm doing great, but I'm not. I'm tired of hearing how strong I am. Do you know what makes a person strong? See the list above.
I believe in the ever after (just not he Earthly Happily Ever after). Shame on people who add to the burdens and grief of those of us who have been impaled in our hearts with such fathomless grief.
I find peace knowing that my son helped others by being an organ donor, and the last words he said to me was "I love you mom," and mine were "I love you too." My last text wasn't very nice but oh well. We aren't perfect. If we were we wouldn't need Jesus. I cry myself to sleep every night, and he is the first thing on my mind every morning. I think of him constantly. I miss looking at him. I miss his silliness. I miss his insecurities and impulsiveness. There are things I don't miss about him too and of course that makes me judge myself and have guilt. At least I have the awareness to know.
I don't ever want to go back to work. I don't want to be in a crowd of people I know because what will one of the insensitive brutes say or do next. It is so sad that so many of us are in the same boat but reassuring too. I really would just die too if my husband and other son didn't need me so much. It hurt to never see him reach his full potential. Life is too long without him. One more major tragedy in this life, and I am calling it quits. I think I've earned that right. That's just big talk. Remember, I'm strong.