My Days

Well, Scott, the last day of the most horrible year. It is 7:00 AM here in the midwest; already the year 2000 has begun in New Zeland and Australia. I woke early this morning and watched the beginnings of the world celebration on TV. I wish you were here to see it, to experience it. You would have enjoyed it, I think.

Actually, I am sad to see 1999 go for the simple reason that I feel it puts distance between us. In 1999 you were living and breathing on this earth; it is also the year you decided to leave. It must have been the worst year of your life. It pains me to think of that.

I am making this entry early today because I am concerned that I may not be able to get on-line later as people all over the world begin to log on to send wishes to their friends and to chat. I just want to have some kind of connection with you on this day, to hold on as long as I can. I hold you in my heart, always. I hope, someday, to be able to bring out your photos again, to be able to look into your face and be thankful I had you in my life for thirty-six years. Now, I cannot think of the blessings of your birth, I can only think of the sorrow.

Well, Scott, here it is 12:02 PM and your dad and I are finished with our meal. The afternoon stretches out ahead of me and I have nothing left to do to keep my mind off the fact that you are not here. I spent the morning cooking. Broke beans, put them on the stove and fixed lasagne. Couldn't have our traditional meal without you here to enjoy it with us. I invited Chris and Cynthia but they went to Joplin to celebrate Christmas with her folks. Can't say that I blame them. It's like a morgue around here. Dad and I spent the morning in tears.

Funny. When I woke this morning, I imagined that you were downstairs sleeping on the futon and as I showered and washed my hair, I imagined you still there. I had an expectant feeling, like any time I would be seeing you walk up the stairs. You would be fresh from your shower, your dark hair wet and brushed neatly. I would fix scrambled eggs and bagles for you and you would eat with gusto. But, of course, those stairs never delivered you to me. I had to face reality.

Scott, a strange thing happened. 11:10 AM, about the time when you and Chris would have shown up if you had spent the night at his place, Jeti and Nikki ran to the door and started barking wildly, the way they used to when you were behind that door. I almost expected you to be there. Were you? I felt your presence. In fact, I invited you in and talked to you. Your energy was warm and pleasant.

Dad and I had a memorial for you just before we ate. I had a wreath in the middle of the table with one white candle representing you and five red candles which represented our grief, our courage, our memories of you, our love, and hope. We had something to say to you about each. I hope you were able to hear us. I had hoped Chris would be here for the ceremony but..... Anyway, we lit the candles and then ate our meal. It was special and I felt close to you. I have begun to feel your warmth and energy this past week or so. I've been upset until recently because I couldn't feel you close at all. I'm thankful for being able to feel you here today. It helps the pain.

Nothing else new, Scott. Just couldn't let this day go by without writing to you. You loved Christmas so much. I loved watching you enjoy it. I think I will never love it again.

I got an email from Harriet this morning. She called you my angel. I like that idea. Could you be my angel, Scott? I'm going to assume you can. Maybe you can help me with all these painful feelings I'm having.

Well, I'm going now. I'll talk to you again later, dear heart. Love ya'.

A river, my tears. Today you should have been here. All afternoon, looking out the window of my study, it was hard to convince myself that you were not on the road somewhere between Kansas City and Springfield and soon you would be here. When I brought myself back to reality, it was almost too much to bear. I spent the whole day sending email greeting cards to friends. It was a blessing I had it to do. Kept me busy, kept me occupied.

By now you would have had a plate of post roast, rice & gravy and green beans, your favorite meal and the one I always cooked and had ready for you when you arrived. I enjoyed cooking it, knowing how much you liked it. I enjoyed watching you eat it.

Tonight the house seems empty. No tree. No decorations. No Christmasy smells. No YOU!

Scott, I miss you so much. When you took your life, you took mine too. I am trying so hard to find another one, but no matter what kind of life I fall into, something is missing. There is a big hole in me that can't be filled. I have to learn to live with it.

So much I want to say to you, Scott. Another day. I am too weary and filled with sorrow tonight.

So goodnight, my son. If there really is life after death and if you are here in spirit, please talk to me. Help me get through tomorrow.

I've been crying all afternoon. Can't stop. Anything can trigger it. Today, winter soltice. And the galactic alignment with the full moon. I would have called you, Scott. Reminded you to look at the moon. Big and bright. I miss sharing things with you. You were not only my son, you were my best friend. I can't fill the hole you left. And I can't quit weeping for you, for your lonliness and your despair. I wish I had known how desperate you were......

Funny. I can't feel your energy. No matter how hard I try, it eludes me. Every day, passing your papa sans chair on the way to the car, I rub my hand over the back where your head used to rest, can't feel a thing. I felt the closeness of others I wasn't as close to after they died, why not you, Scott? Was it the way you died? The awful violence? Maybe you are still in shock yourself. Or maybe it is my intense grief. Or could be I just can't let your energy in yet. I don't know.

This is a very hard time, right before Christmas. I find myself trying to plan so I will be distracted. Want the day to pass quickly. Chris and Cynthia are going to Joplin to celebrate with her family, so your dad and I will be alone. We didn't do a tree. Asked everyone not to send gifts. It would be too hard......We're not going to eat the traditional meal. Just too much too soon.

I talk to you Scott. Even though I'm not sure about everlasting life. Right now, I just need to hope. Because I didn't get to say goodbye. I love you so much and I think of you constantly. How I wish you were here.

This is the worst year of my life. The most tragic event that could happen has happened. Scott, my youngest son, took his life last August 3rd. or 4th. in a violent way. Alone, in his apartment, he shot himself in the head. I grieve for him. I grieve for me. He is gone. I am trying to survive.

I'm back on these pages to honor you, Scott. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't know how to do this. You were such help to me. You were so patient while I learned. You were a wonderful human being. You were my best friend. I love you and I miss you terribly.