" I Am Who I Was Born To Be"

Sitting with you again tonight,

The song on this page is song by Susan Boyle, and it so fit's you.  You would always tell me " I am who I am".

How are you tonight Ben? It is cold and starting to snow. I can't see the stars tonight. I feel the winter in the air, and the holidays are creeping closer. I have the tree up. All your ornaments are hanging on the tree as they do every year.

It is the stressful time of the year for me. My emotions are out there on my sleeve. It is the time of year I can cry over a silly commercial. I try to get control over my emotions but it isn't that simple. I can be fine one minute and the next I am falling apart. I still am not sure what the triggers are. Sometimes when I am watching a movie and a family's child died, adult or small, I cry. Not really because it is sad. I cry because in my mind I am thinking---"Now those people have to go thru what I have been living thru for 6 years. They have to feel that hole in their heart and that empty space in their family". I know it is just a movie, but it just hits me.

It is almost Christmas again, and I am trying to figure out what to do with the holidays. I decided I am going to come here and spend time with you. All the other holidays I have just mucked my way thru.  I kept all my thoughts and feelings inside. Not this year. I decided if someone ask's me how I am doing I am going to say how I REALLY am doing. I am taking off my mask. I am living my life for me. I am walking my road of grief in MY time frame and in the fashion that is best for ME.  I am not going to worry about everyone else being comfortable around me, or thinking if I let my true emotions or feelings out they will think I am crazy, or obsessed.

I feel I have been walking on egg shells for 6 years now. Now I am going to worry about myself and my comfort.

It is odd, when a loved one dies. The family of the loved one plans a gathering to view the one who passed on. People come from all over to pay their respects. The family of the loved one makes sure that everyone ELSE is comfortable, has food, drink, whatever they need. The day of the funeral, the loved ones family again needs to do a form of "entertaining" as far as a meal served after the funeral. You chat with the people who have come, make sure they have gotten what they need. Make lite chit chat, and keep your happy face on so that you can make sure all the people who have come are comfortable and getting their needs met.

At this point we are like 3-4 days in to the loss of our loved one. We are still walking around as if at any moment they will walk into the room..it was a mistake..they aren't really gone. We are trying so hard to keep ourselves together, and we don't want people to see us fall apart--besides, we have things to do--people around us. Things to be done. After all is done, and our loved one is laid to rest, we see all around us has continued to go on as nothing has even happened. We have our jobs to go back to, our daily lives.  I found I waited. I waited for you to show up at the door and I would see it was all a bad mistake.  A dream.  Certainly this was not possible.  My son couldn't have died.  It is not in the normal order of things.  My son should  of been here to bury me. That is the normal order.

I found as time goes on, I continue to walk in the shadows. The shadow of my old life. I find myself taking second glances when I drive past your old street. Things we had done together and places we went I would seek out so that I could visit a memory. I at times will bring up your name at family gatherings, and share a memory but it is as if I am holding the family or friends captive. They have to listen to me share what I want to say. It is as if I can read their mind and feel their tension as they listen. It feels as if they are thinking "when will she just let Ben rest, and go on with life".  I am thinking to myself as I share my memory--"why can't they just for one time join in with me and share with me a memory of Ben that is special to them. I feel that this is how it will forever be. Until someone is actually walking this path of grief they will not fully understand how I feel, nor will they know what to say. If someone asked me what I wanted them to say to me, I would tell them----" say my child's name, smile as you say "BEN". Remember him by keeping his memory alive."

I love and miss you so much. ......... mom

Ben,

Today is December 13,2009. It marks the 6th anniversary of candle lighting services since your passing. Tonight I will light another candle to honor your memory. I will also be lighting one for someone you know. Remember Amanda? Who would of known years ago that I would lose you, and the child I took care of would go on to lose her child.

 I remember the first lighting service that I went to after your passing. You left me on Nov 1st and just 43 days later I was sitting at a candle lighting service. It was so hard for me. I cried thru the entire service. I couldn't go up front to light my candle. I stayed sitting in my chair and held my candle so tight in my hands. The night was snowy, I had never been to this church before and it took me awhile to find it. I was so fresh in my grief but the need to go to this service was so strong. I knew the other people who would be there would also be grieving a loved one. I needed so badly to talk to someone who was experiencing the feelings that were exploding inside of me. Once I got there and I walked thru the door the tears just flowed. I quietly found a place to sit and I wanted so badly to just be invisible. I wanted to be alone with my grief, but yet be with other's who would understand my tears. I wanted to just sit in a room with others that knew and could relate to the void I felt.

In the days prior to this service I was having to go about normal life duties. Go to the store for groceries. Just being out in public. I so wanted people to understand I was a mother who just lost her son, but how would anyone know by looking at me? I looked normal. I had to be on guard at all times. Guarding all my emotions. Smells, sounds, feelings, all would hit me out of the blue. Smells from flowers would over whelm me. It would remind me of all the flowers at your funeral. My emotions were all over the map. How could one person feel so many emotions at one time? How could my mind go from thinking about what items I needed to buy, to placing my son in the ground? When people saw me, they saw a normal looking woman. My pain, my void is not visible to the human eye.

When I sat in this church for the candle lighting service, my wounds, although not visible to the human eye were known to the hearts and minds of all the people there. For the first time, I knew when these people looked at me, they were seeing into my soul. They knew and understood my most intimate feelings and pain. It was a silent understanding. No words needed to be spoken.  It was a common grief shared by all that were there. It was ok to cry. To sob as loud and as hard as I needed to, and all would understand. My grief was no longer anonymous. Everyone there knew the inner struggle each of us has on a daily basis. For the first time in 43 days my feelings were validated, acknowledged, and I didn't need to say a word. There was just a silent nod to those of us who were not at the point yet where we could share---verbalize what we were feeling.

Now here I sit, 6 years later. I find myself thinking back to the funeral. I find I take myself back to that memory a lot lately. I believe it is only now that I can look back on that time more clearly. I feel I revisit that memory a lot because it was the last moments that I spent with you. It was the last time I was able to touch you. I remember smoothing your hair. It was a little out of place and I wanted you to look your best. After all, everyone was there to see you for the last time. I held your hand and stoked your cheeks. I wanted to savor every moment with you. Each time that I touched you I thought soon they would be taking you away from me and putting you in the ground. That thought tore at my soul. It over whelmed me.

43 days later sitting there for that service, the reality of your death was finally sinking in. Your death was so out of the blue, I was caught off guard. There were no good bye's. No I love you's. No nothing. I woke up one morning and you were gone. Those around me had no real understanding of all  the ramifications your death has had on my life. Thru these past 6 years I have learned a lot about myself, and others. Before this loss, I too would tell people I understood their loss, but did I really? Now I found I had NO CLUE.  I found  I continue to get up each morning and put one foot in front of the other and go about my day. Is it of my choosing? Yes. I could give up, but what would you think of me if I did that? I want you to be proud of me.  People have said I am a strong person. I don't see myself in that way. I just know this was thrust upon me and this is the life I have to live. Your life taught me so much, and took me into the field of working with the disabled population. Your death shaped me into who I am today. When I hear of someone fresh in the grief process, I reach out to them. If only to say I truly understand your loss. I mention their child's name and tell them that I will think of them often, and when they are ready, please share a memory with me.

I did not choose to have you taken out of my life 6 years ago, but I do have the ability to choose how I continue on with my life. I hope that I make you proud, and that along the way I am able to help those who's lives are changed by the loss of their child.

Although you were to leave my life too soon, I would not change a thing except to savor more the time I had with you. You graced my life with your presence and the experience of having you as my child. I love you very much Ben and my love for you has or knows no ending. It will continue on as long as my heart beats. I love you to the moon and back........mom