Silence Outloud

Mornings are the hardest.  I wake up and the first thing I think about is my loss of you, Josh.   It’s too early to numb my feelings with red wine, instead tears and sadness come.  It’s a real personal struggle and I can’t share it with anyone.  I’m pretty pitiful for sure.

I’ve lost your cute smile and sharp wit and your presence.  I’ve lost hearing about your dreams and visions.  How are you feeling and how are your doing?  What is on your mind . . .besides feeling so hurt by me?

I’ve lost an adult child and seeing you continue to grow and me continuing to learn to be a better person and mom because of you.  Do you have children?  Do you have pets?  How is your work or career going?  Where do you live?  Are you healthy and happy?  What are you worried about?

I worry about you and long for a connection.

I can’t wait for morning to turn into afternoon and hope I feel just a little bit better.

I am a perfectionist, so thankfully I have good resource skills to resolve problems and make most things right and have made it through my first 59 years.

I can’t always make things right.  I have a lot of anxiety today about a house problem.  I feel worried and can’t find my deep breath.  I lost my patience with a home mitigation service worker and yelled at him today.  I couldn’t at all understand what he was saying and he had dollar signs in his eyes.

I am all alone. . . I am a mess and can’t stand myself.

I grew up thinking I had to be perfect to gain my parent’s love.  I didn’t know how untrue that was until I had a child of my own.  The unconditional love I felt was an amazing discovery.  I wish I could feel this unconditional love for me as I did for my child.

If my son Josh ever reads this he will taunt me with this human flaw.  When I tell him “I love you” he says “how can you love me when you don’t love yourself?”  Such a trite statement.  Is it really true we can’t love others if we don’t love ourselves?  Maybe it’s true and maybe that’s how I drove my son away from me . . .

I was upset when my son Josh did not tell me his grandfather died.  I heard about it from my sister two months after his death.  I yelled at him.  I felt anxiety and worried about Josh.  “why had he kept it from me?” , I wondered and worried. This was our last argument in August of 2011, almost 9 years ago.  It was right after this that he cut me out of his life.

At least I know I had to be perfect to keep his presence. . . I am not perfect.  I am flawed.  I am all alone . . .I am a mess and can’t stand myself.

I finally have a way to describe how devastated I am that you are no longer in my life.  It’s a pandemic of sad emotions.

I hope you are safe and healthy.

Mom

and nobody wants to talk about it.  Family members know you have cut me out of your life.  They even have had the nerve to become your friend on Facebook and befriend you – inviting you to family reunions and one sister in particular. Katie, telling my siblings and her kids “she knows why Josh doesn’t want to be in my life . . .”  Really, she knows?

It’s so hurtful.  I can’t make sense of why you don’t want to be in my life.  I wasn’t a perfect mom and I did the best I could.  I did not abuse you, abandon you, miss treat you . . . I spanked you once and realized almost immediately that it was my anger, not your behavior, causing me to spank you.  I never spanked you again.

I listed to you, I laughed with you.  We painted rocks, went on hikes and bike rides . . . I will never forget the time you wanted a lizard and when we went to the pet store you didn’t like the lizards (thank goodness!) and we came home with a parakeet instead . . .

I cry out loud when no one is around and it’s hard to stop.  It’s been almost 9 years and it does not get any easier.  I try not to think about it, about you, about any memories because it hurts so much . . . and nobody wants to hear about it, nobody came to the funeral . . . nobody made me comfort food nor comforts me.  and the few friends that know you cut me out of your life make light of it and some even say they know what I’m going through – but they don’t.

We hope that our worries don’t come true and we worry that our hopes won’t come true.  I am no longer hopeful that you will come back into my life . . . but still working on not worrying about you, Josh.

Mom

Josh,

I didn’t write anything here the entire year 2019.  I’m numb, but when I really think about you, I’m really angry and I hate you.  How could you cut yourself out of my life and me out of yours?  What kind of human being does this to their mother?  You are cruel, hateful and starting to rub off on me.  It’s easier to hate you then miss you.   I’d rather be numb than entertain these awful feelings.  Mom.

It has been 7 years since August 2011.  I was hoping you would get the 7 year itch and change your mind.  Change your mind to accept me back into your life . . .

August came and now is gone.  2018 is almost gone.

While I don’t like your decision, I’m still wanting for you to come back into my life.  I hope you had a nice Christmas and were surrounded by those that love and care about you.

Here’s to 2019! a year for reunion. . . is somewhere in the future . . .I know it.

Love, Mom

Today is the 20 year anniversary after Princess Diana’s death. On a news interview her son said he was so sad at the funeral but felt his mom walking next to him.

This made me cry. I want that from you Josh. I want you to know I’m walking next to you in life and death.

I’m so sad, everyday, that you aren’t in my life . . .