Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Cause your the only song I want to hear...


Sometimes I feel as though I am still in shock and that my son is still alive. As though we had an argument and we are simply not speaking as opposed to him being gone. We had some really lovely weather this past weekend, a weekend where he likely would have been starting to do some work on his small boat to get it ready to put in the water. I kept waiting on the phone call for him to ask me to help him finance some kind of expensive boat repair. The phone call never came, and it never will.

I am mourning my own loss. The loss of my child, the flesh of my flesh. However, more profoundly, I am mourning his loss. The loss of the life he will never live. He was twenty years old. He will never get married and he will never be a father. He will never again spend lazy weekends fishing on the little boat he loved so much. He will never again go to a concert, or a baseball game. He will never have the opportunity to vote for a president. He will never again have the chance to get dressed up and take his lovely girlfriend to his office Christmas party. He will never stand up as Best Man when his little brother takes a wife. Gone are the days when he will call me and ask to come over and bar-b-que some steaks with his special secret marinade.

The sadness and pain of this loss is more than I can bear most days, and I am thankful for the body's ability to protect itself by keeping me a little bit numb so I can function on some level and get through most days. Sometimes the anger overwhelms the sadness and I want to wage a war against someone. To make a difference. To get this shit off the streets and away from our children. And that is just what I intend to do, one baby step at a time if I must...

13 comments:

Syd said...

Kel, take care of yourself. I read your post twice and can feel the permanency of not doing these things. I am sorry.

An Irish Friend of Bill said...

Rome wasn't built in a day. the process takes time. you've just got to keep doing the next right thing a day at a time..
Just be with whatever you are experiencing and try not to get stuck in any 'views' regarding it. Just experience it, and move on to the next moment. a breath at a time. let the process take you to the other side.

yes the feelings are real, but they are also very impermanent. This too shall pass. helping others has always saved me from myself and the worst aspects of self obsession. it sounds like you have found a way to channel your innate desire to help others with the same types of problems. I am sure there are many out there.

Wait. What? said...

My thoughts are on you today. Warmly.

Bar L. said...

Kel, I'm glad you're writing. No one can experience the depth of your loss but I think as we read here we do have an idea of how deep the pain must go. I don't know any mother's of addicts that don't live in the fear of what you are now living. I'm glad our bodies are designed to numb us out too...how else could we go on some days?

This is how I feel to, knowing where to start is the hard part:

"Sometimes the anger overwhelms the sadness and I want to wage a war against someone. To make a difference. To get this shit off the streets and away from our children."

Lisa said...

I can't say I understand how you feel, but I imagine the level of pain. Your loss is the loss that I fear the most as it relates to my son and his addiction.

Your comments reflect how sad you are and as a wonderful mother, you are demonstrating that you are more sad for him than you are for you. My heart goes out to you, and I am truly sorry for your loss.

steveroni said...

Kel, I am SO sorry, to lose one to this disease of ours at ANY age is a nightmare of horrors.

Hope you don't mind that I blogroll you (again), don't know where you went.

When you are read to stop--you will stop (you know of what I'm speaking, right--grin!)

PEACE!

The neverending battle of child's opiate addiction said...

You know Kel, you already make a difference in the lives of those of us who read your blog. I am right there with you in that conviction to make a difference, to get the shit off the streets and away from our children. Please know I am thinking of you often and pray for you even more. Renee

Mariah said...

Kel, I am so sorry for the loss of your son. I am also so sorry for offending you, I am glad you came out and told me, as others have too. You people are constantly teaching me and I thank you for that. I believe you (and others) are right. Addicts and alcoholics do deserve help and shame on me for being a jerk. I wish you peace Kel and I am so sorry for your pain. Take care of yourself.

Anonymous said...

Just dropping by to introduce myself. Looking forward to following your blog. Have a good one!

Mariah said...

@chitowngreg You look like a spammer when you leave a comment on a post like Kel's you obviously didn't read her post. How can you say 'have a good one' her son has passed away. Read the post before you comment and look like a total moron.

Sorry Kel

Anonymous said...

Kel,
I haven't read your blog for awhile...and was stunned and saddened to hear of your loss. My heart goes out to you. We are in the midst of a terrible epidemic in this part of the world, and both my children have been taken hostage to it.
Please stay in touch.
Lisa

Designer_NYC said...

Kel, just want to let you know that I think of you every day. Am in the middle of trying to get my 15 year old away from the opiate pills that are his current way of rebelling and numbing himself. It is all too painful at times. My heart goes out to you and I pray for you every night.
Lisa

Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

Kel, there are no words. I'm so sorry for your loss, and your pain. You are in my thoughts.