Tuesday, June 20, 2017


You would have been 46 on June 16, 2017.  

It was a hard day.

Sweet Wife, Son, Daughter were here.  

You were here with us in a special way.  Thankful!

Then your Sister and Niece arrived Saturday.

Your Brother and SIL arrived Saturday evening.

We celebrated Fathers' Day.  Your first one not here.

We celebrated Dad and his birthday yesterday.

You are missed daily, hourly, by the minute.


Wednesday, June 14, 2017


When I was a child, we lived near the beach in Virginia.  My mom, my brothers and another Navy wife with her three children all went one day.

Oh, I need to tell you that my mom could not swim.  So, she stayed on the beach, chatting and watching her children.

Well, something happened that I still remember today.

I was caught in an undertow.  I remember being tossed around like a rag doll, spinning head over heel, scared, drowning.  Then, it was if I heard a voice.  Stand up. it said, put your feet on the sand and push.  I did and my head broke out of the water into the wonderful air.

I was so out of breath.  I staggered to where my mom and others were sitting on a blanket.  I told her what had happened.  She had me sit on the blanket near her until I could get calmed down.  I did and eventually went back into the water but only up to just above me knees.  

No way was I going to try that again.  I did later on and still love the beach today.

I've found out that grief is like an undertow.  I can be walking down the aisle of a store and feel the rush of grief overpower me.  I start to breathe differently.  I cannot focus on much of any thing.  And, it just keeps coming.

People are trying to comfort me by comparing the death of their brother, or sister, or any one else, to what has happened to my son.  It doesn't help.  


Because there is no pain like the pain of loosing one of your children.  

The grief keeps coming.  I think about his children, how young they are, how their story will be all of their lives....my daddy died when I was 8, my daddy died when I was 6.

It breaks my heart.  

I don't understand.  It doesn't make sense.  I am drowning. 

I hang on because I have my daughter and my son.

Thank God for the voice.

Thank God for my children.


Saturday, June 10, 2017


From everything I have read, to date, one never gets over loosing a child.  

A Facebook page for parents that have lost a child is hard but helpful.  It has multiple posts from many different people, loosing children of all ages.  Reading it is depressing but at the same time, it is comforting. 

 Does that sound weird? 

 It is.  

Comforting because I realize the experience is the same for every one.  

When you bury a child, you bury part of yourself.  

That one statement alone explains why those that have not lost a child really do not understand.  They are not suppose to understand.  Only the experience binds you with others of the same experience.  

Another reading is from a nonprofit.  

I think I will scan it and post on this blog.....just in case it helps someone else who has a broken heart.

Life does go on.  My children, husband, friends, have all given me my needed space.

The only thing I know is if I make it through the night, I will get up, eat breakfast, shower.  

After that, I know nothing.  I plan but do not do. 

I breathe. 

 I mourn.  

That's it.


Wednesday, June 7, 2017


It has now been 3 months since my son's death.  

Today I am.


Just numb.

Life goes on so they say but it is no longer the same life.  


Just numb.


Tuesday, May 23, 2017


There is sorrow then comes the anger.   

I find myself constantly gritting my teeth.

I'm on the verge of exploding.

I'm angry at life, the world, etc.

I want to lash out but what difference would it make.


Sorrow can be a pressure cooker.


Tuesday, May 16, 2017


Death is part of life, I get it.  

I've lost both parents, in their fifties, my youngest brother at 23 on a motorcycle, a niece, a personal miscarriage, grandparents.  

Nothing, nothing, nothing compares to loosing a child in death, even a 45 year old child.

The sadness is always just below the surface of emotions.  It is a constant source of tears at the drop of a hat.

It has been past two months now.  I've been communicated with/to a few mothers who have lost adult children.  They do not give any hope of improvement.

Our neighbor drowned six years ago.  Her parents moved in to help with the only child, who is now 20.  When I told the grandmother about Aaron, she cried tears for her drowned daughter.  Gone at 42.  
It still doesn't make any sense to me.  I still have questions, disappointments, why, what if, should haves, etc. 

Our other two children are wonderful and caring.  They understand my pain.  They lost a brother, too.

Life is hard.

Life stinks.

Life always ends in death.

I plan to go to a counselor to try to help me heal.  No matter what she says, it will not bring my son back, will not change circumstances but will, hopefully, help me handle it.

I've not been back to church.  I saw a man that goes to the church.  Yes, I broke down.  He was very kind.   The idea of facing them all with their sad looks and words is overwhelming so I don't.   They are a wonderful group of people.  It's just I cannot do it.


Sunday, April 16, 2017


Thank you!  Your kindness has touched me!!!  I did copy, as you instructed, I did give Malinda copies promising that she will get the original when I kick the bucket.



Monday, April 10, 2017


Today I experienced a gift of kindness that touched me.  

A sweet lady named Bethany, who is a very talented self taught artist, drew a picture of our late son.  Its striking!

We met today and she gave it to me!

I will cherish it the rest of my life!

Yes I will post it on this blog.


Friday, April 7, 2017


Today has been a bad day times ten!!!   I've cried.  I've mourned.  My heart continues to break.   I find no relief.  No solace.  No moving forward.   No light at the end of the tunnel.


Tuesday, April 4, 2017


I don't understand.

I never will.

I miss him every minute.