In the grieving process of losing my son Alex to an accidental drug overdose, I have started writing a blog as therapy. Not only has it helped me, but from comments received, it let's others know they are not alone and what they feel is sometimes exactly what they are SUPPOSE to feel. Bless you all who find yourselves in my position; I wish you weren't.

Friday, May 4, 2012

When I was about ten, I remember being so mad at my mom for blaming me for something I didn't do, and even when she found out the truth, she still never said anything close to an I'M SORRY. I was so angry that I took 5 dollars from her purse and went and had a chocolate ice cream sundae at Sanders at Eastland Mall. When I got home, my mom already knew I had taken it. I could tell from the look on her face, and I felt it from the slap on MY face. Off to bed I went with no dinner, and a very angry mom and dad at me for one whole week. I thought that was the WORST day of my life. But a whole summer of babysitting off and on for my cousins, and I paid back the money, and that was that. When I turned 17, I met my husband and we started dating without telling my parents; I knew they would never approve (he was 20) and I also came from a very strict family where dating wasn't really allowed unless you introduced the boy first to my dad and he GAVE me permisssion to date him. (boy were times different back then, huh?) When one time I fell asleep at his house ON THE COUCH in the middle of his living room, I awoke at 8am the next morning. The moment I woke up, I knew I was in trouble. LET ALONE staying out all night, I had not called my parents and I knew they were beside themselves with worry as to where I was. The gentleman my husband being, he brought me home and tried to explain to my father what had happened. I don't think 10 words were out of his mouth before my dad tried to punch him. I say try because Mark ducked and backed off, and just stood there, not raising a hand. I thought that day was the WORST of my life. But after alot of talking and alot of apologizing, I ended up marrying the man of my dreams, Mark, and he even asked for my hand in marriage from my father. There are probably 10 to 20 more times in the last 30 years of marriage that I can say I thought I had experienced the WORST day of my life; a miscarriage, our one and only arguement where we yelled at each other and SWORE, the day Audra went missing for 15 minutes, the day we were kidnapped and robbed at gunpoint, the day the couselor told us Adam could not walk across the stage and graduate, he had to go to summer school, the first and second time Adam went to Iraq, the day Alex had a collapsed lung from a car accident, you name it. But by far, so far, the absolute worst has been the day I lost Alex. And I don't mean necessarily the day he died, I mean the day I realized he had an addiction. It was like a kick in the groin, only ten times worst the pain and nauseous and a migraine ALL in one. My heart broke, I thought I had failed him as a mother, as a parent I was positive somehow it was my fault, and ALL along I was still praying it wasn't true, and there was a way to make it better. In other words, I NEVER gave up on him, EVER. And I can tell you, till his last breath was taken, HE KNEW THIS. He even thanked me one night for never losing faith in him and always being there for him; when he needed a ride in the middle of the night home, or even just taking him to school, he always thanked me. The family knew this, our closest friends knew this, his siblings knew this, his father knew this. But when he did die, I was the only one who wasn't convinced. I had lost my son, I had done everything I knew possible to give him back his life and it did not work. I still lost him to drugs. And I didn't even really get angry about it until maybe 2 weeks after the funeral. So when someone says that grief comes in stages, they ain't lying! I think Audra hit the angry stage the very first moment she saw Alex. Adam, I am not sure, but I know from conversations with him and his friends, he has been angry. And Mark, well, I live with him, but I still haven't seen it or have I asked him if it has hit him yet. I kinda think it's a personal thing, something we experience but really don't have to share. But don't get me wrong, it's not like we don't talk about Alex, because it is the complete opposite. We share something about him almost EVERY day, just as if he were still here living with us. His funny antics, trying to beat him at Jeopardy, watching how much fun and patience he had with little kids, his towels always all over the bathroom and of course, the idea that we would EVER get to eat our own leftovers from a night out to dinner! Sometimes, I think what WE think is the WORST day of our lives really isn't, it's how we feel that makes it the worst. The pain of that day is what makes it the worst for me. The realization that there was no turning back, that it was an end to a wonderful young life. And then of course, the idea that never again could I help him. As a mom, I always wanted to help him. That's what moms do, they raise their children and they help them become adults. And yet I still wondered what I had done wrong. And no matter what anyone said, I could not help feeling this way. But it wasn't until my daughter took her hands and put them on my face, and said this, did I really believe. "Mom, please, don't blame yourself, we did EVERYTHING we could to help Alex, everything he LET us do to help him, this isn't anyone's fault, it was just something that was going to happen because he wouldn't let us help him."  Not until that moment did I understand I had done all I could. It was out of my hands and there was nothing I did wrong. Sometimes, on the days I miss him most, when my heart feels like it is breaking in two, I think of her words. And then I think of a saying my dad use to say to me when I was younger; "THANK HEAVEN FOR LITTLE GIRLS." Yes God, thank heaven.

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