Grieving Out Loud

Grieving Out Loud My beautiful son died on Oct 27, 2023. We buried him today, Nov 6. I need to write out loud.

05/31/2026

And on the worst days, I just sit. I don't even try. Today was a worst day. Maybe tomorrow will be better. "how I wish, how I wish you were here"

05/30/2026

There have been 3 birthdays since my son died.

The first one felt like I was living on an infinite 2 dimensional plane, just blank, barren off white forever, alone in infinity.

The second one, I tried to hold his memory in my heart, in my words, but the only sound coming out of me was sobs, no words. We had a cake, I hurried up to get it over with and retreated into bed early, very early.

This past one, the third, was last weekend. Me, my husband, my close friend and college roommate and her husband went to the beach. I live in North Carolina and the beach is about 2 hours from home. We stayed in a rental right on the ocean, we played cards at night after I spent the whole day right at the water's edge, moving up when the tide came in and following it back into the surf when it ebbed.

I sat, no thoughts came. I didn't cry, I didn't need to, that ocean is mine already, I've cried enough to fill the Atlantic. The water, the sun and the sand comforted me somehow.

I found God there if only for the day.

03/24/2026

There is no going back to normal. The dust won't ever settle. Things won't work out. Time won't heal all wounds. All of the platitudes that float in the air of the world I once belonged to, none of those are real here in the outer-sphere as I call it. There are distant muffled coos, long ago relics, like static on a radio, but all the sound is gone.

03/02/2026

And still I ask the question. Still not wanting and answer. Maybe asking matters, why so short, why such a stingy experience, just pieces of happiness without the hole. Maybe holding onto the question keeps me holding on.

11/13/2025

Hope. I need to find Hope.

10/30/2025

There's faith. There's love. But hope, that is a hard one.

As I live in the conclusion of my life, It feels like I'm living in a run on prologue of a novel. Hopelessness, that feeling in my gut that won't go away. Hopelessness creeps into my ear and whispers, "why bother, he's not coming back. Not today, not ever."

Hopelessness. There's up because there's down, east because of west, dark because of light. In my first life, I didn't ever understand hope because I never understood hopelessness. Here in the prologue, I do understand hope because here in the prologue I understand hopelessness. Most of the time I feel like I have 2 pieces of a million piece jigsaw puzzle, the ones I once loved to put together. These two pieces I'm holding onto aren't even from the same puzzle, but I hold onto them. I hold onto these two pieces because something in me has hope. I don't know what it is that I'm hoping for but for some reason, I'm holding onto any scraps I can find.

09/24/2025

It's not that people don't understand. It's that, after all is said and done, down deep, they simply do not care. It was my son laying in the casket. Others in the room, not fully aware of it themselves, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God it didn't happen to me". Some still call and visit, and patiently wait while I pull myself together.

For me now, I walk alone. Quietly. No longer thinking but if a memory floats past me, sometimes I peer into it and softly smile. Other times I let it drift by. The warm air is becoming heavy and I find myself looking for the cool, maybe even icy air. So cold that it could freeze my thoughts, my memories, my tears in place, eternally.

How I miss my son. After all the tears and all the screams, the only thing that remains is that I just miss him and wish so much that he was here.

08/26/2025

AM to PM. Each day is open, a chance to serve, do my duty, walk the path. Each day I try to find meaning, love and moments of joy. Each day I honor God, the living God in people, in nature and in myself. Every day I toil, every day I try. Most days I fail but I do try.

PM to AM. Z-quill or Benedryll, Curb or The Office? Sleep is never solid, it's scraps, it's bits and pieces, it's dozes but never solid hours, never. That's ok, the body is still functioning.

Somehow, I can serve this world, somehow I can do my duty here because somehow, I will find my Russell when I leave this life behind. I need to make it from AM to PM and back again, round and round, until like a magical carousel horse breaking free from the circular path, I will race across the universe and find my Russell. There you'll be waiting, smiling, there, at the end of time I will find you.

08/05/2025

I'm a stranger, not only in the giant big world but also in my own home, my own family, our family.

Once I filled my life with books, family, music, art, travel, writing, recipes, long walks, horses, flowers, swimming. Nothing is familiar now, everything is bland, there is no more color. I pray, I ask Jesus to help me but I don't know what I'm asking for. I ask for something to have taste on my tongue again. Even the sourest lemon. Writing has dried up, there is no more moisture in this world, it's so dry and it's just blowing away.

07/22/2025

How long will this drag on? I sleep in scraps.

When I was a child, we were fishing and I remember how those fish looked laying on the sand, gasping but no longer squirming. Their bodies' missing the water. So helpless on the land with the glare of the Sun overhead. It hurt me to see their little mouths moving and those fish eyes looking at the world above the water line, seeing us, these large creatures with lidded eyes, bald faces and patchy fur.

Now it's me feeling helpless, confused and tiring fast. Now it's me looking at a world I never knew existed. Now it's me drying out, slowly.

A close friend is staying with me this week, my college roommate. We've stayed in touch throughout our lives. She's still asleep upstairs, I'm having a coffee, my husband has gone into work today. Life feels calm, even pleasant. But inside, I'm like the fish. Waiting for the Sun to make its final zap.

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2304 Penarth Court
Zebulon, NC
27597

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