Still Grieving Over My Son, Nick Taylor (05-13-87/01-10-10)
by Kimberly Ann Mays
Anyone can tell us that time will make it all better. Maybe, in some ways we do grow stronger and learn to cope, but that's not better. It's called existing in a life which we have no choice but to do. My faith is stronger now than it has ever been throughout my entire life, but I'm still allowed to feel the things that I do. This doesn't mean that my faith is less than I claim. It means that I love my child and I now must live without him. God knows what we are feeling better than we do. He knows that we hurt and feel so many emotions. He also hurts for us. I can cry and feel sadness every day of my life, because I choose to. I can't allow this pain to end out of fear that I will be letting go of Nick. It helps me to keep him present in my heart when I hurt. Simply because I remember everything. God tells us that we must suffer through death in order to display His work. I think, for me it means that I'm displaying His work by still being alive today. I would've left, and planned it out completely, but He intervened. This was only one of the things He's done for me throughout my Son's death. I miss my son more and more every day. This doesn't get any easier. I don't think that I can say I've learned to accept his death, because I will never accept that. I have accepted that my life has no choice, but to live here without him. At least until God returns me to him. I've learned to cope in this new life me and my family have now, but it's not easy. Our lives have been shattered into, leaving it in complete disarray. During the first year and a half we still had no way of knowing how we were going to piece this life back together. Too many pieces were now gone, and it just made everything else difficult to come together and make fit. Holidays are never going to be the same, nor will special dates and events. I still dread holidays and celebrations. When my son first passed away I was so angry with my husband and others. I was never mad with my other two sons, but I grew very distant from them. I didn't want to, it just couldn't be helped. I felt so much guilt that I couldn't give Nick the same love and attention so I pulled away. It was several months later when it came to me that I was very lucky to still have them here. What if God wanted them next, just because I was neglecting their needs. I begged God not to take them. I realized real soon that I was blessed to have them. My husband was such a rock. I hated him so much, and had no idea why. He wasn't to blame for my son's death. My son was killed by a man that had already served very little time for killing a military officer after robbing him. This would be his second murder that he was allowed to walk free. So, why did I have so much anger toward my husband? I still don't know. Someone told me that it was because he had been the one in our family that always fixed things, and this time he couldn't. This made more sense to me than anything else. My husband couldn't make it all better. I cried so many times a day and stopped living on my own for a good while. I say that to mean....I only lived because I had to, but I was so dead inside. I couldn't make myself do anything, but go to work. Work kept me busy, but home life made me sad and lonely. It was over a year before I cooked a meal. I just couldn't, because I felt too guilty. I stopped cleaning house, speaking to friends, caring about my appearance and anything else. Some days I wouldn't eat or sleep. I lived on 10-12 cups of coffee per day. Before I knew it I looked ten years older. My face had really aged and I looked like a mess. I couldn't watch tv, because if a gun shot or murder victim was shown on tv I would fall a part. I still spend most of my spare time on my back porch drinking coffee and writing letters to my son. I clean my house again and have started cooking a couple of meals per week. I'm beginning to enjoy tv again and doing things with my family and Nick's 2 and a half year old daughter. I'm far from being where I once was. I may never get back there, but at least I'm going somewhere. I'm so ready to see my son again. That's how I live, trying to get through the days and nights so I can get closer to being with him. Each day is now a count down for my time here. I love my son so much. I can't believe this happened to us. Now, it's all about waiting. The only thing I can say to others is that our pain is ours. It's personal and no one can tell you how to feel or when to stop grieving. You once owned that child as your very own. You now own the pain and emotions that you have. They're yours and only you can decide when or what needs to be released, if ever.