I do try not to hold negative or resentful thoughts and feelings. I face each day with as much positively as I can muster. But, I have moments where I still am very angry. Angry that my son, a loving, caring, respectful and honest young man was taken from this earth so young. When I see young men that are rude, have no respect for their mothers let alone other women it makes me question everything. When I see the people that caused Artie so much pain, the ones that turned his life upside down, going on with life as if nothing has changed, I am furious. I want nothing more than to never feel hatred in my heart because Arthur loved and respected everyone. But some days it feels like the hatred is eating me alive. I feel it consuming me. I don’t wish this pain on anyone, I just wonder if they ever think about what they did. I live with guilt and regret every day of my life. How can they not? When they drop to their knees and thank God for their blessings, do they think of what we have lost? I do realize Arthur made the decision to end his life on he own. He takes responsibility for that. But I can’t help but wonder if these people had never come into our lives, would he still be here? They ruined his view of what he thought people were. The very people he loved and trusted turned on him and he never recovered from that. Please forgive me for this rant. It is my only release and it’s this or screaming and sometimes I am afraid if I start, I will never stop…
Swollen eyes and a broken heart…
It is so hard to get a grip on this pain. I thought I was doing pretty well, but yesterday I was washed in my grief and pain all over again. For the first time in a while I cried myself to sleep. I woke up with swollen eyes and one hell of a headache. Grief is like an unwanted houseguest. They overstay their welcome, suck up all of your energy and leave a mess when they finally go. But just when you think you have everything put back in its place, and it’s okay to make plans for the extra space, it walks back through the door. I have said all along I had no control over my emotions, and this was one of the hardest parts of the loss. It is still true after five months. Five months! It seems like years to me right now. Years since I held that blonde little boy with a scraped knee, years since I comforted him when he had his heart broken and years since I heard him call my name, hug me and flash that crazy bright smile.. I will never be over this pain. Our family will always be missing a part of us. I will get through this period of grief.. Until the next one comes….