Thursday, June 28, 2012




I just came from my artroom... back to my computer.  I printed out something I wanted to slip into Tommy's Chest.  I do this quite often... but, I only slip something in very quickly... I don't want to 'see anything'... I can't, yet.  I keep thinking I will ...look inside... soon.

'Soon' hasn't come yet... I 'know' I will be sick if I do it now.  Sick with pure, raw grief that physically hurts... I don't know if my body, my mind could take that now.  It may just crush me to death... the grief weighs 'so heavy', though I can't see it.  Isn't that strange?  The grief weighs 'so heavy' but, it can't be seen?

I took Tommy's photo that sits in a gold frame on top of his red/gold upholstered chest, sat it on my art table ... long enough to barely lift the lid on it.  I can't bear to look in it.. yet.  I slipped a neatly folded sheet of paper into the chest along with other neatly folded 'papers'.  On these pieces of paper are things for my grandchildren to read one day when they get their father's chest.  My grandchildren are going to know they are loved at a distance, and are thought about, cared about... one way or other.

Through my writings, they will know.  It doesn't matter now, that we can't have them in our lives... we've accepted something we can't change.  It's okay now.  Things have a way of working out....   It's just the way life is, whether we like it or not.

When I took Tommy's photo off the top of his chest... I held it close to my heart, kissed the face that smiled back at me.  I 'know' that smile... I felt the most overwhelming pain come through my heart... piercing pain.

Oh God, that hurt really bad... enough so, that my stomach just felt sick.  I turned around and looked on top of my art cabinets.... there are three more chests that sit there.

Three more chests... Mom, Rick-Rick, Jimmy.  Oh, the terrible, terrible waves of grief that rolled over me.  I felt so weak from the weight, I put my hand on my chair as I looked at all four chests... four people whom I loved with my very heart... one of them a very part of me, my son... my only child.

I gently put Tommy's photo back up on his chest... came back here to my computer.  Oh God... that affected me in  a 'bad' way... unexpectedly.  I didn't know that was going to happen.

Do you see what I mean?  Grief, no matter how 'you think' you have learned to cope with it.... has a way of coming back to bring one almost to their knees from the sheer weight of it, the pain from it.  It's 'too heavy'... I almost can't stand up from it.

Now my head feels achy, my eyes hold unshed tears, my nose is stuffy... I could go look in the mirror and 'see that pain' in my eyes.  What I can't see is... the weight pressing my soul, trying to squeeze any happiness I've begun to feel again... out.

Oh God, it does hurt so bad.  If you haven't lost a child... you can't ever know the pain physically, mentally.  You can't know the 'weight' of it ... I didn't want to ever know any of this... I always worried in my mind at how Tommy would be 'if I were the one to die first'.

Tommy loved his 'Ole Mom' (just an affectionate name... :)))  Everyone knew how much he loved me.  He couldn't bear for anything to hurt me, much less think about something happening to me... or Skip.  I always through the years talked to him 'just in case' I were to become very sick again, and something 'should happen'.

I wanted him to be prepared so, he wouldn't suffer and feel such grief.  I wanted him to think of happy things to make him smile... instead of cry.  I always told him to 'look for me, see me' whenever he'd see 'alot of colors in one place'... happy colors.  'See me' in the bright sunshine, in the beautiful moon and stars at night... 'to know his Ole Mom loved him with her heart.  He'd smile when I'd tell him these things.... I would 'see' a little flicker of pain at the thought of something happening to his mama.

I 'see Tommy' now, whenever I have occasion to see Celadon trailer-trailers going down the highways.  I see, hear him in funny things Skip and I say, we say them to remember Tommy.  Like yesterday we heard some truck drivers talking, we heard one say 'damn it, driver'!  Skip and I laughed, Tommy used to say that, laugh.  He loved to learn funny things to say, do.  Tommy had a wonderful sense of humor!

If something should happen to me... if you should see alot of colors in one place, happy colors... think of me...  Love, Granny Gee


  1. No I dont' know how it feels to lose a child--an only child. My heart goes out to all those who have lost a child especially their only child. Tommy was a wonderful person. I know he loved his mother with all his heart and if anyone knew what was good for them---they would not bother his mother or Skip. I always think of you when I see a lot of colors! Especially beautiful colors! This is because I think you are a beautiful person. Love, Ms. Nancy

  2. Ms Nancy,
    Thank-you for the special comment. You are the beautiful person, good person, the best friend a person could have. I'm honored that you are my best friend. Love, Gloria