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.

Monday, August 13, 2012

I'm OK. I have learned that by spending some alone quality time these last couple weeks. You do have to let yourself mourn. I may want to celebrate my son's life, but I have to let go of so much just to do that. It's OK to have fun, even though I feel guilty doing it. I know somewhere my son if laughing his butt off or shaking his head in embarrassment of me running down the slip and slide. It's OK to go through his clothes and not keep them because they remind me of him. I gave them to the Salvation Army and maybe a needy person may enjoy the life that was lived in them. Heck, I won't lie, I gave some of his favorites to his close buddies and kept a few for myself. He had one sweater I just thought he was so handsome in and I will feel like his arms are wrapped around me when wear it. It's OK to go through his personal belongings and realize keeping his concert tickets and the keys to the old Thunderbird he loved isn't necessary. It's OK that I don't get a phone call everyday anymore from friends or a family member asking me how I am or the family is doing. I realize life must go on and they have their own lives that are just as busy and important. It's OK to say NO when someone asks if it's getting any easier because it just isn't. I do come back and say now that with the grace of God I will endure. It doesn't even phase me anymore that unless they have experienced a loss of a child, they will never understand so why get angry or upset with them. It's OK to share with my husband that I am having a bad day and I can't even get out of bed or cook dinner sometimes.  How willingly this man that I love and knows EXACTLY how I feel, comes home, brings or cooks dinner, and lays next to me without saying a word and I am comforted. He is suffering, too, and I never forget that. It's very easy to only think of the mom during this time, don't forget the dad's. It's OK to use Alex's room as an office now and use his bed to make a spare bedroom upstairs. I really don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable sleeping in the room he passed in, so Mark found it easier to move his office in there. He loves the room, and it's a lot more private than it was upstairs. It's OK to take care of myself for a while and not everyone else and everything. I am not the only one who knows how to do the laundry, run the vacuum, wash clothes and dishes, cook dinner, clean a pool, visit a relative. I find it quite puzzling when others tell me I should be back to work, that it's been long enough and I am capable of working. I wasn't aware there is a time frame on a broken heart. I had him for 26 years, I think I am entitled to more than 5 months to get back to their idea of "norm"   (let alone losing my mom in those same 5 months also)   And just because I wasn't close to my mother within the last 4 years that doesn't cut out the last 47 that I was. It's OK to look through pictures and remember days gone by. The scrapbooks I made for his graduation are so very helpful when I want to see his beautiful smile and the fun he had with his life. I love to see his different looks and how I can watch him grow right before my eyes with the help of these pictures. I know I have them in my head, but when in front of me, I feel like I am almost there again, with him. It's OK that I don't want to attend a wedding, a funeral, a birthday party, church on Sunday, or even an invitation to a BBQ. Just because I say no thank you or I am having a bad day does NOT necessarily mean it has to be due to losing Alex. Life goes on and I am, too; and right now, it's just OK.  


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