Do I miss You ?

December 27, 2015 at 12:45am

Some people believe there is a certain amount of time to grieve. That you are allowed so much time then POOF, pop back and get on with your life. If only it was... that easy. Anyone who has lost anyone knows there is no timetable. It goes on forever. The pain, yes, it's not as heavy, but it's there. The tears, yes, they come less often, but they still come. The time passes so quickly for some and still so slow for others. It's like yesterday it happened. Other days it feels like a million days ago and not even true. But sadly, it is true. My friend once asked HOW MUCH DO YOU MISS HIM? Seriously, I tell her I can't answer the question. How do I say a part of my being here is gone. A part of ME is gone. I can't see him, touch him, hug him, kiss him. I miss his smile, his sense of humor. His unexpected gifts and jokes. Candle holders shaped like wine bottles for my birthday. Flowers he brought home from the hall he worked at because someone was just going to throw them away and he knew I would like them. A picture he sent me of ELLEN in a picture on the wall at a hall he traveled to for a banquet the Mirage was hosting. He knew how much I love ELLEN and he took the time to take a pic and send it to me. Those are those special things I miss.

God gives you this child, you nurture him and raise him to the best of your ability. You believe he is perfect. IN YOUR EYES, he is perfect. No other child in the world compares to yours. You are a mother, and it just never stops, the love just continues to grow every day. Your husband is bursting with pride for being given another son. Like the king of the jungle feels of his pride. Yet, he holds him ever so gently and manages not to hurt him, because little ones still scare him. Another son, two boys. Buddies for life. and so we watch them grow, teach him, hold him when he cries, cuddle him when he's whiney. Stay up all night taking turns watching him because he is having febrile seizures. And laughing with him when we get our bathing suits on and take a bath together to lower his fever. He thinks its like summer and its a pool day. Audra kicks in my tummy to remind me we will soon be adding to our brood. Another miracle in the making. And so they welcome their sister. My triple A gang. The three musketeers. Our family is complete. And a girl ! I can't help but feel sorry for her, knowing she would grow up with them protecting her, and watching over her. And we raise them all, feed them, nurture them. We watch Adam go off to kindergarten and she cries. Alex tries to sooth her and rubs her back. "It's okay Audwa, I'm still here. It's OK". And she calms down and plays with her brother. He shares his lunch with her, colors with her, helps her to walk across the room holding her tiny hands. He lays with her at naptime and together they fall asleep. He reads his favorite books to her and she listens intently. Adam comes home from school and calls her. "Hello sunshine, did you miss me?. And all of them run off to play. And they grow. They grow so fast. Snow comes. They are all up half the night waiting to get up and play outside in the fresh snow. Alex is in awe. He can't wait to build a snowman. "Mommy, everyone has to have a snowman, they just HAVE to." And all of them eat, we dress warmly, and out we go. They pull Audra in her sled. Have a snowball fight. They build a snowman. And he is FROSTY. He has a hat, and a carrot nose, and he will be built on the lawn for the next few years because Alex never stops believing we HAVE to have a snowman on our lawn. And they grow more. Adam joins the Marines. Alex graduates and starts college, not quite sure which direction he is going. Audra graduates and goes into studying to become a nurse. He is taking courses but still cant figure out what for. As long as they go to college, we don't have them pay for room and board. His friends tell him how lucky he is. He was. He had it much better than his friends. Audra, too. She was working two jobs now and still going to college full time. HER choice to work. She wants to save save save. And she does. And yet Alex still confuses us all because he can't find his direction in life. Audra knows he is so smart and tells him. She knows he has it in him. And she waits like we do.
He is now responsible for his own decisions. And one night he makes ones that costs him his life. My 26 year old son is gone. He has died in his sleep. But he had just gotten home a few hours earlier and said, "Goodnight mom, I love you, don't forget to wake me for school." "I love you, too, Alex, I won't forget." Thank you God for those last moments that I will treasure forever. But I'm angry, I'm devastated. This doesn't happen to people like us. It's other peoples kids we read about, we hear about. Not ours. And yet, it is our son. Who is going to help me put up the tree and spread the branches? Who will still put up with my silly tradition of playing the Chipmunks song and actually sing with me? Who is going to sing the chocolate milk jingle when we stir it? It was your song. Miss you. How much do I MISS him? GOD only knows how much. It's immeasurable. There are no words to describe how much. Your friends miss you. Your favorite waitress where you played darts misses you and the little chocolates you would bring her. Your brother and sister can't even tell me how much they miss you. Your father misses his Ixster. Your nickname. His golfing buddy.
YES, my dear son, we miss you. Merry Christmas in heaven Alex Killoran, my sweet boy. We love you more. Always always.

Being a Warrior

Small victories. That is what I call my days when there is not a tear shed and I don't think of you Alex in a sad way. People have warned me that grief over losing someone you love, child or anyone for that matter, comes in waves. Like how the sea moves; farther and farther out the wave will go and you just let your feet sink in the sand and feel it between your toes. Enjoying the moment and looking at all the seashells that have washed up on it. Then BAMM, the water comes in, cold and covers your feet up to your ankles and makes you shiver for a second because you are caught off guard if you hadn't been looking up. All the seashells have then been sucked away and new ones take their place as the wave then goes back out. At this time, we get a chance to catch our breath. That's a feeling of how grief creeps in and out sometimes. There are days I feel the water comes in and I swear it is hard enough to pull me under, like it wants me there. But I stand on my ground, and let my feet sink deeper in the sand. I will NOT let it move me until I am ready. This wave, that I compare to grief, I am sure would much rather have me pulled out and taken away, just like the shells on the beach surrounding me. But nope, I stand there, firm, ready for the next wave to hit me. There are days it feels comforting to feel the water, it tickles my toes and makes me giggle like a kid. It is soft and almost soothing to listen to; I am kind of frozen in time and enjoy the silence and feeling of almost being numb but still happy. My mind wanders and I can close my eyes and just picture good things. Other days, the grief, the wave, come crashing in, loud; almost deafening to me. It hurts to try to hear, and whatever good thoughts I am trying to push around it keeps getting so loud that I hear only the rage of the water. That's is when I get up and move quickly. I get out of that area, I get to a quiet place, away from that rage, that hard wave. And I stay away from the beach on those days. I try really hard not to let those waves get me. They only make me sad and harder to think of good thoughts and all that makes me happy. Thank goodness I don't visit the beach every day. But even without leaving the house, that is what I compare my grief to, those waves. How they come and go so quickly and without notice. The only help is now that time has passed, I have learned how to handle the waves. I know that I can stand firm, tall, proud. It thought it could beat me down so that I would never feel good and fulfilled. But I won. I am the warrior and I fought and I beat it. So that's why I call it a small victory. To be able to think of Alex as he was before he passed. I always used to dream and think of him when he was small and innocent. But now I can dream of him as he was before he died. A man, working, thinking of ways that school could get him to his dream. A friend to many, a kind hearted man that helped others before they even asked. So yes, I shall say that I celebrate small victories. Because it is a war to fight and keep all the good in your heart and not let anyone take it. It is my war, and I am winning more and more each day. Big changes going on. I really think Alex would be so proud of me and how far I have come in this life since he left. Living and laughing, enjoying each day with the sunshine and friends and family. Thinking of him with so much love always; yet still wishing, always wishing, he could be here to see it all in person. Being able to hear the stories of Alex  I have never known. Those are the most special parts of keeping in touch with his friends. Hearing about his escapades; his adventures I never knew about. And I shall keep my ears open to that wave, the grief, and keep pushing it farther away every time it tries to pull me in. I am in the here and now. And those waves, the grief, they no longer throw me around or pull at me. I just love the beach and its waves. I am now in control of how they hit me. And that is power. What an awesome feeling and a small victory. I will accept it gracefully.

Angels among Us

 I look out the windows and wonder this. When I am doing the dishes and staring at the night sky, I wonder if the one star that sits there staring back at me is you. When I shut the lights out for the evening and I check the back door wall to make sure it's locked, that same star is there. I know they move, the earth moves, but that same star always seems to be there, so I say it's you. And when I see it I say HI ALEX just as if you were standing right in front of me. That's where my mind takes me, thinking you are a star. Other nights, I say I have an angel in heaven watching over our family. I figured you are there, with Velvet and grandma Killoran and the rest of our family that has passed away. Can't think of anyone from our family so bad that wouldn't be there, so I count them all up there with you.
     Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That’s what I remember the most from my catholic classes and the bible. Well, I can't lie, I remember other parts. Like why God made rainbows and then Adam and Eve and the apple. But what I remember about death is when you died, you went to heaven and became an angel. I always said I wanted to be an angel. So I could come back and watch over my family. somehow guide them; sit on their shoulder and help them make the right decisions against the evil little imp that sits on the other shoulder and tempts them. I am allowed to believe in what I want, and this is mine. You really never told me your beliefs. You knew there was more to this life than just one God, a heaven and a hell. This world was way too big to have just that going for it. Science ruled a lot of your beliefs, but it didn't take away your thoughts of miracles and other beings. Other than that, we knew you wanted to be cremated. "So much wasted space on this earth with bodies in it. Pretty soon we will all be wondering why do we bury the dead.” Your words. Whimsical to some, hurtful to others, but yours, and you are entitled to them. We just followed your wishes. Others believe you bury your loved ones and pay tribute to them by visiting them and putting flowers on their grave so you have peace in your heart you were there. I was and am still always afraid if I had done that, I never would have left your side. I would have gone there every day when I was feeling down, needing to be near you, making sure that the words on your gravestone weren't covered so that they could be seen by others. People would walk by and say OH MY, so young, that poor family. I wonder how he died? I know this because this is what I do when I go to the cemetery with my grandma to visit my dad’s grave. We bury flowers in the summer around his headstone, and near the holidays we buy a grave blanket. Sometimes, as hurtful as it sounds, it feels like a duty. But out of respect and love for my grandma and my father, I do it. Some traditions just can't be changed, the living are too used to them and feel it must be done this way. and so it is. We don't want to hurt those who do believe.
     Now you Alex, being yourself and definitely one of a kind, felt different. You hated funerals, refused to go, unless absolutely pushed (my dad’s was one) and it really didn't bother me. Everyone pays respect to the dead in their own way. I go to funerals to pay respect to the survivors. They are the ones who have to live with the loss. They are the ones that will remember you came and paid respect to their loved one. I believe in God, but I don’t have to go to church every Sunday to believe. Sunday is a day put aside to gather together with others of the same belief and listen and pray. I used to feel peaceful when I went into church. I feel the joy of marriage and baptisms are what churches are for now. And when you feel you need guidance, to be able to go and talk to someone.
Your ashes remain with us; along with grandma Killoran's. Of yours, I put ashes in ten small tins so that if anyone asked, they could have some. Surprisingly, they did ask, and that made me happy. You have gone to California and now travel through the Santa Monica pier. DJ made sure you are floating and traveling in your favorite fishing spot. You went on Tom and Allison’s honeymoon. You are flying through the hills and valleys of Arizona. Your dad and I put a few ashes for you to rest with Taz and then holding hands together let the wind take you where it wanted for the rest of the ride. You ashes are spread with grandma Barbara's around Uncle Tommy’s house and a little went with Audra. I think you are in a lake behind Mitch's home. You were on the ground where Audra and Mitch exchanged vows and the wind carried you around there home while it was being built. All places I thought you would like be part of. To be carried off farther into this big beautiful world, some places you missed out on seeing while here.
We have counted on your angel powers from down here. Your father made it to the hospital and didn't die from a heart attack that easily could have taken him. Even though the sky was dark in some parts and looked like it would open up at any minute and drop pails of rain, we made it through Audra's and Mitch's outdoor wedding ceremony before a single drop fell on their heads. When grandma was tired and she felt she was really ready to go, she drank her favorite scotch, ate a few chocolates, and went peacefully in her sleep in her favorite chair. I was just ever so glad she came to one of Audra’s dress fittings. She didn’t make it to the wedding in person. Somehow, through all of this, I kept thinking Alex, thank you. And yet I will never know for sure if your hand played any part in any of it; but I still believe. Anything is possible. We all know that. Angels travel among us every day. You are my angel, our angel.

Piece by Piece

After Alex passed away I started putting together puzzles. I fell into doing them to fill my time and it kept my mind occupied; it stopped me from going crazy thinking about Alex and all that had happened and how much our lives had changed.  Mark and the kids thought I was crazy because when I was done with one, I could not take it apart and put it back in the box. I turned it over, ever so gently, and sprayed glue on it so that it stayed together. I fell in love with the idea that I had found the pieces, put them together, and finished the puzzle. Like I had repaired it, as if it was broken. I fell in love with the first one, and found out it was from a series by Charles Wysocki. It was just a puzzle of a town, with a church, and people going about their business, just living their lives. I put it in a frame and went out looking for another. When my daughter came home she would see me and just shrug her shoulders. It wasn't like it occupied my whole day. I did my chores, cooked dinner, washed clothes. But near the end of the day, I went to my puzzle. One night I drove myself crazy trying to finish one part, and could not find the right pieces to go together. I bet Mitch and Audra $20 bucks they couldn't finish it in ten minutes. There were trees in this puzzle and they all looked the same, at least 20 trees. Let's just say I lost $20 bucks. The next day, turned it over, glued it together, and put it in a frame. Two down, and I was on a roll. I waited a week but the craving hit me. I really wanted to put together another puzzle. So I again went searching and found at Meijer's another by Wysocki. I loved his old fashion way of portraying life. I took my time doing the puzzle and even my son Adam laughed when he saw another on the kitchen table. "Mom, you are suppose to put the puzzle together and then put it back in the box for another person or time." I knew he was right, but once they were together, I could not for the life of me take them apart. The third puzzle was different. It was a colorful puzzle, of a town and it's stores and balloons floating and the sun shining. Kids running down the street and just people walking around. It was serene and I found peace in my heart looking at it. I also felt it expressed fun, something I wasn't experiencing yet. Six one thousand piece puzzles later, and I was in trouble. It was Christmas time and I told myself, this is it, this is the last one. And it seemed perfect, it was a Christmas scene. Two beautiful houses with a huge Christmas tree between them. The moon shining and people going about their business. Carolers were singing, kids were playing and others were holding wrapped gifts in their arms walking into their homes. When I was almost done with this puzzle I left the last piece out, knowing Audra would be home and see it, and she would put it in. When I woke up, it was finished.
It wasn't until today I realized the impact doing these puzzles had on my life. I had done 7 puzzles total. There were some small ones in between that I did with my brother at his home but I had kept and framed the seven I did. I really felt putting them together was like putting me together. Even when I looked at the puzzles and saw how they changed. The first was just of life and everyone going about their own business. Then they got more colorful, the sun shining threw, kids playing and people interacting. The last puzzle was of the holidays, Christmas, my favorite time of year, the time when families get together. Throughout the time I did put together the puzzles, I felt my self being put back together. Piece by piece, little by little, my mind became less troubled, my life became more peaceful. I found myself becoming whole again, and I really started getting out more and visiting friends. I never thought putting puzzles together could do that. In all of this, I have come to the conclusion there will always be this one piece missing that cannot be replaced. And in one puzzle we did lose a piece. My brother and I searched and we could not find it. At the end of the day I was like OH WELL, there is not a damn thing we can do. But I glued that puzzle together and colored a piece of paper for the back and so it blended in. It is a beautiful picture, even though one piece is missing. It hangs downstairs and it feels and looks complete. Something can still be so beautiful even when a small piece is missing.

A.A. Milne wrote: “If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together. There is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. I'll always be with you.


Those are some words people need to hear when they have lost a loved one, especially parents. I have read, and I am not kidding, as gifts or books I have bought myself, over 30 books dealing with grief. Reading every one, thinking THIS book might be the one that has that one idea, that one sentence that will help me. And so I read. Along the way I have come to realize that these books can give you some help, but only YOU can help yourself. I have learned many things. I did read one article that hit every point but I put my own spin on it, being I have been there and experienced it.








"What I Wish people Understood about losing a Child"


1. Remember our children. They did live. They were not perfect, nor is anyone. We had high hopes for them and never gave up on them. How they passed makes no difference. Mention their name or share a memory. Hearing their name is music to our ears.


2. Accept that you can't FIX us. There is nothing to fix. We are not broken where you can see. We have suffered a great loss. Our own flesh and blood, our child.


3. Know that there will always be 2 days in the year we get a pass on. The day they were born and the day they died. Every year WE know these dates and don't consider them an ANNIVERSARY. Anniversaries are for celebrating. These days are never far from our minds; they are the days we hurt the most and remember who we are missing.


4. Realize we struggle every day with happiness. It comes in fleeting moments and can last for months and then a bad day sneaks in there and BAMM, happiness turns to sorrow. But we rebound.


5. We know our loss makes you uncomfortable sometimes. It makes US uncomfortable. But our child DID exist and talking about them confirms for us they are not forgotten.


The only thing I can add is that the holidays are also triggers for sadness and gladness because of the memories. The ones we spent with them as a family, and the ones we will never will again.

Loss

Sometimes we are faced with things we think we just can't handle. The death of a loved one is one. Whether young or old, it doesn't matter. We strive to try to find an answer, especially when it is unexpected. And we even question God. But we are not on God's timetable. We will never understand God's plan. And even if you don't believe in God, there will still be NO answer. But I can say personally when you have faith, a belief in a higher power of any kind, that faith will help you see a message in loss. It can be to cherish the ones we have. Not to take others for granted. To live every day to it's fullest and even enjoy those mundane moments. To love fiercely and be compassionate. And in that unconditional love, we may find some peace.

It is Valentine's Day; a day we get to show our loved one's a little extra love. For me it's Alex, who has been missed so much from this family for soon to be three years. Some ask me how I have coped with the death of my son Alex at age 26 of an overdose. I can only give this video advice though it may seem lengthy, Be brave, be strong, fight for your life to be free of drugs and the pain it causes not just you, but others. Don't make your mother and family go through this. Every one's life in this world matters and has a purpose and value. YOU are the one person that can make that choice. My reference to Ellen is because Alex knew I always wanted to see her show and dance and I finally went. I wish he could have come with me, but in my heart, he was. It would have been better to have had him by my side. All our lives would be better if he was here. He was an important man to this family. He was my son. And now, my angel.


P.S. To Mitch, you ARE a big part of this family, but if hurt so much to mention your part in this.
Only you and I understand what that truly means. Without you, a lot of this healing would not have happened. The link below, I hope it helps others who have lost a loved one.



http://youtu.be/d4G8xC6A8oY