Breathe

Sometimes all you can do is just keep on breathing. It's not that you want to, it's that you have to.

My youngest son died 11 days ago. It was ugly and unwarranted and in front of his brother. He was shot in the chest by a police officer. I have a moment where I am not just living and I see him, even though I didn't see him, trying to get up...the shock that must have been on his face, the shock that had to be on his brother's face as that shot rang out.

The shock that I'm living....

I wake up every morning and for five seconds I just wake up, then I remember that I lost a son. He will never, ever be here again. Ever. Then my mind moves on to the son that is living with that vision in his head and I know he will never, ever be the same person he was on June 3rd.

To this day no one involved has called me to tell me my son is dead. I know he is, I read the news story on the internet & called the hospital where they told me he was never brought in. Eventually my middle son borrowed a phone since the police took his and called me to tell me that my baby was gone. I knew. Then I went to his funeral.

He wasn't perfect, he had problems, but he also had many, many people who loved him. He had a kind soul.

I remember asking him one day if he was mad at me. I wasn't the best Mom and he had every right to be, but he wasn't. "You did the best you could, Mom"......he was forever forgiving. 

One day I'm going to wake up and for more than five seconds I am going to be ok, for now I will say I am. No one wants to hear that I'm not. What are the stages of grief? Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression & Acceptance? I'm hanging out in Anger. I love the sounds of little children, I loathe the sounds of young adults having fun. I have no patience. I am very ready to hurt someone, and I'm not sure it matters who. 

I heard a song the other morning and it struck a chord. Anna Nalick "Breathe" Life is like an hour glass glued to the table.

The end.