"All those moments lost, Like tears in the rain."
This was one of the last sentences spoken in the movie Blade Runner. Never have I heard a sentence so beautifully, so tragically, and so sadly articulated.
It is hard for me to put into words how I felt when I heard spoken aloud what my mind and heart have been thinking and feeling for the past seven years. While heartbreaking, it was in a sad way almost comforting. I'm not quite sure why. It just was. Perhaps it was because it seemed that someone had looked inside my heart and understood the storm of tears that had fallen and the longing of my heart to capture all those lost moments. Moments that would never happen.
How many times have I wondered what my son's life would be like TODAY if he had made a different choice? I allow myself to create wonderful, magical moments for him. Moments when he's alive and happy and content and life is good. Life is rewarding. Life is everything he wanted it to be.
But then reality slams the door open with a bang, shakes me, and whispers harshly into my ear: He never had a choice. He left you long before he ended his life.
It was true. I tried so hard. I tried and tried. But every month of that last year he slipped further and further away from me. Further into himself where I couldn't reach him. Further away from all of us that loved him. Depression and anxiety was all he knew, all he felt, and something he couldn't escape. And as much as I pushed the terrible thought away - tried to bury it, I knew.
I tried everything. I gave him as much love as I possibly could but love wasn't enough. I tried reasoning. I tried bargaining. I was tender. I was gentle. At times I was frustrated. I tried to get him to promise me that he'd never harm himself. It was a promise he wouldn't make. I tried never to show anger. I never wanted him to think I was angry or disappointed in him in any way because I wasn't. He was everything to me. Always my bright shining star. A star that seemed destined to crash to the earth but still I hoped.
The last three months he vacillated between being loving, funny and being so, so angry. So full of hate and contempt. He had attempted to take his life on at least three different occasions without success. I tried to get him help and couldn't. He didn't want help.
Then came the day when suddenly without anything different happening that I could see, the tide changed and he was totally at peace. Everything about him changed. He became quiet. He seemed to drift away. Not withdraw but simply drift away. And that scared me most of all. Anger showed he was still fighting. He held my hand and told me he was okay. Not today but soon he would explain everything. Not to worry. Everything was going to be alright. He was walking with God. And I knew.
On January 18, 2010 - a day that had no special significance, a nothing day, he called to say good bye. He called to say I love you Momma. No there's nothing you can say. Don't cry. I am at peace. Its all good. He hung up and a short while later he was gone. He was 32 years old.
For a while I wondered why that day. But then again why any day. No day in particular would have made the pain less or even greater.
Seven years Christian has been gone. For some seven years would seem like a long time but seven years isn't so long. I can be back to the day of his death in a flash. The tiniest of things can take me there. The pain of his no longer being with me has become part of me. I can't escape it but time has made it more bearable and more often than not, my memories go back to the happy times, the good times. That is what I want to remember. That is how I want to remember my Christian, my beloved and most cherished son.
We, those left behind, never know what will trigger the sorrow in our hearts. What will take us unwillingly back to the nightmare of that last day. It could be a favorite food, a smell, a piece of clothing, a memory, or words spoken in a movie.
I cannot say that I truly understand the moment when my son decided to end his life. I cannot say what made him choose that day. I can say this however. He was at peace with his decision. He felt God's presence in his life. He believed everything old would be made new again. He knew he was loved. And does anything else really matter.
"Cosmic Journey" and "Introspection" follow my first Grief/Art Journal titled "a Journey".These journals contain a collection of artwork and journal entries describing my thoughts and feelings following the death by suicide of our beloved 32 year old son Christian. Unable or unwilling to verbally discuss the depth of my feelings and the hurt, pain, and rage I have endured these journals have been my salvation. My world destroyed I struggle to find peace and my place in the universe.
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Monday, October 16, 2017
Sunday, March 26, 2017
TOGETHER AGAIN FOREVER
Last night as I lay in my bed, comfortable and warm, with my mind in that place between awareness and sleep the room began to softly brightened and you were with me.
You put your arm around me and I laid my head on your chest. I could smell the rich spiciness of your cologne. I could hear your heart beating softly in your chest. I felt the rise and fall of your breathing. I could hear the faint exhale of your breathe. I could feel the rough fibers of your sweater against my cheek. I could feel the warmth of your body.
It was an embrace I had experienced so many times when you were still with me. And indeed last night for a few moments you were with me again. I held on to you and to the moment for as long as I could. We didn’t exchange any words. No words were necessary. We were together and that was enough.
You didn’t suddenly disappear, you slowly faded away and my hand slipped away from you. Even after I could no longer see or touch you, the scent of your cologne hung on the air for a few seconds. And then it too faded away.
Always as mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, friends, and loved ones we wish for just “one more time”. One more moment together. I was blessed with that moment and it was a real as anything I’ve ever felt. So much happiness, so much joy in that moment. So much peace.
But then how empty, dark, and silent the room was after you left. That emptiness, that silence, that darkness came crushing down on me. The feeling was so intense, I cried out and gasped for breathe. Then came the tears. Tears can be healing or tears can be drowning. For the second time you had left me and my heart almost couldn’t bear it.
My son, my son. How I love you and how much I miss you - each and every moment of each and every day with each and every breath I take. Thank you for coming to me in such a profound way. I knew that if anyone could find a way, you would.
The love that binds us will never, can never be broken. You are my heart. The pleasure of being your Mom was worth any pain I have felt or will ever feel. Of this I am sure, this was not our last meeting. We will meet again. If not in this life - as we did last night - then in the next. And with God’s blessing, we’ll be together forever with no more sorrow and no more pain. Only everlasting never ending joy.
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