6 months

Six months since the day you left us.

Six months since I had a hug, touched your scruffy beard, heard you complain about needing a haircut.

Six months of not seeing your man sized hands - and marveling that they were once as small at Jason's are - as small as Jason's used to be even.

Six months since I rejoiced with you over good things in your life.

Six months of not hearing your plans for moving in with Carolyn, or reminding you about looking into colleges.

Six months of not seeing you do vape tricks or hearing about Civil (the store) or the vape tricks team.

Six months of not hearing about your friends, your antics, your plans.

Six months of not hearing fun facts, watching videos of something you found fascinating, or watching some new skill you learned.

Six months of not hearing your voice, your laugh.

Six months of an empty place at family dinners, or family game nights.

Six months of not enjoying a meal prepared by you.

Six months of wanting to do family pictures but feeling sad because you wouldn't be in them.  

Six months of crying every day, feeling like the hole in my heart is getting bigger or more sensitive in some ways, and harder and tougher in other ways.

Six months of not planning birthday or Christmas presents - of knowing that this year, and every one after, your birthday and Christmas will be emptier without you here.

Six months of memories that I never get to have with you.

Six months of questioning my faith - and what I truly believe happens when we die.

Six months of trying to make your things be enough without you. They will never be enough.

Six months of looking at every picture I have of you - and realizing it just isn't enough. It will never be enough.

Six months feels like a lifetime. And it feels like the blink of an eye.
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I posted this on a grief group yesterday:

Today marks 6 months since my 20 yo soon died in a car accident. They say it gets easier, and it some ways it has. I can get chores/work done. I can laugh. I don't have a panic attack every time my daughter or husband drive off. But, in many ways, it is harder. I cry a lot more these days. The depression is real and tangible. I don't feel his presence like so many people speak of with loss of a loved one. I question my faith all the time. I'm told this is normal. I went to a group therapy for 8 weeks (for a program for my 3 yo - the little ones met while the adults met separately ) and it was helpful to know all the feelings I have are shared by others. 

But, if I had one wish - it would be to go back to March 16 - and call him that morning. Even if I was just saying "I love you".

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I posted this graphic on facebook because it describes exactly how I feel

Bo's Place

Bo's Place (www.bosplace.org) is a place for grief therapy. They have many different groups - from pregnancy loss, to adult groups, young adult groups, school based, to preschool groups. Once you complete a group (typically 8 weeks), ages 5 and up can join the ongoing groups at any time. 

We decided that Jason and I would attend the "Little Friends" group - for preschoolers 3-4 years old. It started on a Wednesday. June 29. 1030 in the morning and lasted until noon. The last class was August 17. 

The sessions were all pretty much the same. We met for circle time, in a large room called a tornado room (padded walls - where kids could go normally and let out their aggression and anger). There were pillows on the floor, in a circle. Each pillow had a name tag on a string. We all sat on the pillows (some adults in chairs), and then went in a circle. We introduced ourselves and who in our family died. (Every week except the first, we also talked about our homework) About half of the circle was volunteers - they said their names and what group they would be with. Almost volunteers worked with the kids. After introductions, the director went over the days plans. Then the kids lined up, grabbed an instrument (maracas, tambourines, bells, etc), and then they marched a noisy parade to the group room. They had sharing activities, play time, pretend play, etc. At this time, the adults went to our group room. It was a room with several chairs and couches set up in a circle. We typically had 1 or 2 volunteers with us to facilitate our discussion. 

Our group time consisted of introductions (not in order. That kind of drove me nuts b/c I would have preferred to just get that out of the way. Instead, whoever felt like going, went. And there was a lot of uncomfortable silence while people waited). After introductions, we discussed how our week went, or talked about what the facilitator suggested. It was good I think. Initially we started with 9 kids I think, and 9 adults. I think we ended up with 8 and 8. There was me, and Jason - who lost a son, and a brother. There was a mom and dad and their daughter - who lost an infant and baby sister. There was a man with his grandson - who lost his daughter and the boy's mom. There was a lady with her granddaughter - who lost her daughter, and the girl's mom. (this was the woman I became closest with. Her granddaughter and Jason became fast friends. The lady lost her 23 year old daughter in a car wreck. So I think our grief mirrored each other much more so than others.) Then there were 4 ladies who all lost a spouse and 5 children who lost dads. (one mom had twin boys) One of the moms only came the first week. The kids lost a loved one to SIDS, car accidents, murder, suicide and cancer. 

Once our group times were over, we went back to the tornado room, to circle time again with the kids. This is where we got our homework for the week, counted how many sessions we had left, grabbed hands and did the wave (sort of) for a positive good-bye. Then we left! Normally, Jason and I went outside and he ran around the memory garden with some other kids and then we headed home. 

, 

 This was week 1. Each child got to pick a stuffed dog - a lab (Bo was a boy that the place is in memory of. Bo loved lab dogs). In the beginning circle time, we got to put beads and individualize our name tags. J picked dinosaurs. J picked a brown dog named Chip. They also got to pick a quilt. J picked a pink one because it had purple and blue on it - which are his favorite colors. At home, he curled up with his dog and blanket to watch tv. 

The 2nd week, our homework had been to bring a picture of the loved one to share with the group. Jason picked a picture of Tony and him, where Tony is showing J how to play the guitar. Then he had fun running around the memory garden with the other children.

Week 3, the children learned about living and dead things. We had to bring both something living and something dead to share. We brought some dead pine tree needles; and a spider in a jar. The kids got to plant grass seeds too - to take home and water and watch grow. (which, we tried to keep alive but eventually died)

This week, the kids continued to learn about living and dead things. They received a book called Lifetimes (which I already had bought myself, so I donated one to the town library, since the library didn't have any books to help explain death to children). You can see J with his friend K in the memory garden, and posing with the statues.

There is a week i didn't get pictures and the kids (and adults) painted rocks in memory of our loved ones. And we placed them in the memory garden. The following week however, Jason decided he wanted to keep his memory rock and brought it back home. 

This week the children painted memory boxes to take home, and put
items in that reminded them of their loved ones or that had special
meaning. We were to bring the boxes back the next week
I didn't get pictures the following week again, as the kids brought
back their memory boxes. J had a photo album of all the pictures I could find, since his birth, of him and Tony. He also put a red hot wheels car inside - since red was Tony's favorite color. He placed his memory rock inside. Also a harmonica that Tony had given him.

Here we are at the last week. This week we talked about goodbyes. J and I got there a little early so we got pictures outside first. Which was a good thing, because good-byes are hard. The adults exchanged emails after our group. We got several pictures. The kids made handprint posters for each other - of the kids waving good-bye. We got to keep our name tags. The kids released balloons - which caused J to have a complete meltdown. He didn't want to release his balloon and he felt it was broken at that point. He was crying and upset and wouldn't say good-bye to his friends. And then cried the whole 45 minute drive home because he didn't say good-bye, and because he lost his balloon.









Overall, I felt the group was fantastic. Jason is not old enough to continue on to the ongoing groups. We are debating going through another session of little friends. I miss that weekly group session of talking with others grieving and experiencing a lot of the same or similar emotions. Even though our losses were all different, a lot of the emotions were very similar.

Little friends ended a month ago. J still talks about "sharing time" (his name for it). He even sang/chanted a song they would do at the beginning of their group. I'd never heard it before a week ago. "Hey, Hey! What do you say? We are here to start our group today. We come to talk, we come to share, we come to show how much we care! Hey hey!"

I am considering taking Grace to the teen group, once marching band is over. She has made several comments in the last few weeks, which lead me to believe that she could benefit from it. She, of course, will say no, she doesn't need it. But I think, meeting with other teens, who have experienced traumatic/sudden loss (her teen group would be divided into traumatic/sudden loss - versus the chronic illness or something. I can't remember the name of the other group). Even if it's just relating to parents grieving and trying to find her place.

Check in

It's been awhile since I posted last. We have passed the 4 and 5 month marks - and I'm learning if I stay busy on those days, I don't focus on it as much. Thus, it's a little easier to get thru the day.

Jason and I went to a Grief Therapy program in Houston - a facility called Bo's Place. They have lots of therapy options but we attended an 8 week class called Little Friends (for ages 3-5). I'll make a separate post about that.

We had a family activity the other night - painting rocks (a local facebook group started this fun thing - where you paint rocks and leave them around town and people find them and keep or rehide them. Kinda like geocaching or pokemon go). So we all painted rocks (and found out Grace is PHENOMINAL at her art). We enjoyed our time doing it - and for the first time, I didn't feel extra sad that we were doing something Tony couldn't do with it. Maybe it was because it was an activity we had never done before with him. I'm not sure. But I went to bed that night almost feeling a little guilty - that I didn't feel sad. I had to recognize that this was a good thing. I still need to make memories with my kids and they don't need to always be overshadowed by sadness.

A couple months ago - I had a few dreams about Tony. I had begged and pleaded with God to let me dream of my son, to give me some message he was ok. I always read about people getting all these signs that Their loved one is ok. I haven't really gotten that. So I finally dreamed about him - and it wasn't reassuring. I may make a post about those dreams too.

I did end up having a day where 3 things happened that made me FINALLY feel he was telling me he is ok.

We are trying to plan a 21st birthday bash - a memorial birthday party. I need to get on the ball with that. We are also trying to organize his scholarship fund. (and everyone else is having birthdays too coming up - mine is next week, followed by Jason's 4th at the end of the month. Then in November is Grace and Steve's)

Grace wants to invite a friend over for Thanksgiving because she spent it alone last year and it looks like she will again this year. I told her it was fine - but to realize it may also be a hard day for us. I'm hopeful that having a friend over, and possibly going to my sister's, will keep us distracted enough to not focus on the empty seat.

In some ways, I feel the grief has gotten worse. But in therapy, I realized that it is possible I have moved from beyond that "shock" (where we still felt this was a joke, or that he would still walk thru the door) - to "acceptance". That's a hard stage. Accepting that my beautiful boy - this handsome young man so full of life - is now gone. It's very hard to look at pictures and not feel that grief. The pictures, for me, just show how much life he had.

But in some ways I think things are getting easier. Or rather, I've gotten stronger. I don't panic every time Grace leaves the house to drive somewhere. I don't panic every time she forgets to text me that she arrived ok. I can talk about Tony a little more often, without tears.

We are approaching the 6th month mark. Steve will be out of town at that time, and I'm not sure how to keep myself occupied. I dread this anniversary. To know half a year has passed - in a freaking blink of an eye - without hearing his voice, seeing his face, feeling his hug, witnessing his vibrance. It's very difficult.

We are also experiencing facing death in a new way. Steve's mom had another heart attack and was hospitalized in July. This time there was enough damage that she has been placed on hospice. She is currently in a nursing home not far from here and Steve can visit every day. Jason and I go up about 3 or so times a week. But, for me at least, it brings up a lot of emotions about Tony and his death.

I had a neat message from a friend of Tony's. Her grandfather had passed away - and she wanted to know if I could help plan the funeral. She said funerals have always been sad, but Tony's wasn't. At first I was taken aback. But it was also a compliment. Because we really wanted that - for his friends to not have such a sad memory. I didn't help her plan it - but I did tell her the starting point we had for Tony. Who was he? What did he love? What kind of person was he? And how do we honor those memories? How do show others the beautiful person - without making it about our loss and grief?

Jason doesn't talk about Tony as often. He still includes him in the family (when he names people or draws pictures). I do wonder if almost 6 months is taking its toll on his memory. It makes me so so so sad to think about Jason not growing up with his fantastic older brother. I hope we can do a good job of keeping his memory alive.

I think Grace is struggling. And I think this is what we sort of expected. Marching Band is in full swing. Grace is a drum line leader. She's playing snare again this year. However, the percussion director has left and a new director came in, but he doesn't know percussion. So there is a lot of stress on her - both as a leader this year - and as a possible teacher since they don't have that. She had a breakdown the other night - crying and letting out all the stress and frustration with band and school. She doesn't talk about Tony much. Occasionally mentioning a memory but she never talks about his death. I am considering taking her to Bo's place after marching season - even if she doesn't want me to. Just to see if it helps her. I feel she needs to connect with other people, her age, that lost someone. But also - that are dealing with parents that are grieving. I think that might be the hardest for her - maybe she doesn't feel she can talk about it. Or maybe she feels like she isn't grieving correctly. I'm SO open with my grief, and Steve is stoic and rarely talks too. I worry a lot about her.

My faith is practically non-existant these days. I've lost faith mostly in the people in my ward as a source of strength. I need to put that aside and go to church for me. But my ward is a difficult one. Many people have left over the years and talked about how different it is elsewhere. I attend very occasionally with my mom at her ward. There's such a difference there for me. I feel, in a way, several of those members care more about me and my family and our grief - than my own ward. But I'm currently bitter and not really wanting to let go of that either. I need to find a place where I'm comfortable letting go of that grief. Mom is praying for me.

I guess that's pretty much what's happened since my last post.