Colors As I Go
grief (32) only child (4) Scary (2) Boiled eggs (1) Distrust (1) Don't call me Faye (1) Dying (1) I hate to be called Faye (1) I'm afraid of the dark (1) Middle age woman (1) Pain that reaches the soul.. can't be seen (1) Running (1) Where did my youth go? (1) dying in a beautiful way (1) life is fragile (1) light on my path (1) my son (1)
Monday, March 4, 2013
I Cry Because It's So Sad...
I Cry Because It's Just So Sad...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
This has been an emotional weekend for me. I've been working on my 'I CRY FOR TOMMY' book for quite some time. I shortened it down to 1,066 pages... then, to 738 pages.
Since finishing the book, submitting it once again, then getting the email saying 'Congratulations, your book has been published'... I have found myself in tears ... a lot. This was 'the' one book I wanted published most.
Every word in this book is a part of 'me'. I wrote from my very heart the grief, pain from the depths of my soul. When someone holds it in their hands, they will hold my grief, my pain ... in the form of a book.
A lot of you may recognize some of my poems, stories. Do you know the strange thing? Through time, I have been going through all I wrote, do you know I couldn't remember so much that I wrote? I know I wrote it, it was all about my son. The words were from a grieving mother... 'me'. The words were my words.
I didn't have anyone to talk to, I tried not to burden Skip with all the pain I have carried in my heart. I would come to my computer, sit, write my pain trying to write it out, I had no other outlet. I don't talk to people about something so private... though I could write my words here to you.
I didn't want to take medicine to stay drugged so, I wouldn't be able to think. I did take powerful medicine (I still can't remember the name of it) for a time after Tommy first died... I can't remember 'then', though in a way I can. Darkness, pain, crying, panic....
Medicine only numbs pain, 'hides' one in it's soft cocoon so, one doesn't have to feel fully the horrible pain of losing a loved one, a child, one's only child. The end... no child anymore.
The child you wanted to have your personal belongings, your photos, your everything to. There's no one to 'carry on' for you anymore, to carry your 'family branch'.
There's no one to be there when you become older, need your children to watch out, look over you wherever you are. No son who loves you, cares for you... now, he's gone forever.
When one stops that powerful medicine... they begin to 'wake up', begin to feel that horrible pain, begin to feel it all the way to their soul, begin the grieving process that was prolonged for so long.
After I read the 'Congratulations' email, I began to feel as if I had come out of a tunnel, out of Hell. I began taking a lot of deep breaths... God, I could finally take deep breaths again.
Getting my book ready has taken so long... now, I can 'let it go'... I'm so happy that I can let it go. Such a load has been taken off my shoulders, I know I don't have to worry anymore, Tommy's not going to be forgotten.
I feel every person who has lived, died... should be remembered. It hurts me thinking about each person I loved, who have died. They don't have a book to remember them by... eventually, through time so many things will be forgotten, no one will have an idea of the kind of person they were when living.
Don't you think it so sad that to 'go to all that trouble of living', we are forgotten after we die? We all had, have a purpose to be here.
I had opportunity to talk for a short time with my precious little grandson last night. His mommy told me something he said... it hurt my heart so much, it makes me cry. How sad, how so very sad.
He has been very upset because lately, he 'can't see his daddy' in his mind to remember what he looked like, anymore. I think he cried because he doesn't want to forget anything about his daddy.
I could hear him in the background as we talked. It touched my heart to hear her tell him, 'that's why we have pictures, so we can look at them, so we will never forget'. To listen to her tell him in her ' mommy voice', a voice so sweet, so comforting... touched something in me.
Tommy was a presence when he entered a room. He always made a good impression on people. He was very polite, kind to people, he went out of his way to help others. One could always see in his eyes that he was happy to make a good difference.
I understand what my little grandson is worried about... it's keeping his daddy's face, voice, how he moved ... in his mind. He wants to remember him forever. Why do we have to forget? I wonder if it's to ease the pain... would the pain be 'more' if we kept such a clear picture in our mind?
Is that 'why' when I see someone who looks like Tommy, I stop and let my eyes follow them, 'trying to see Tommy' walking, moving, smiling, talking? I feel pain as I watch for a brief moment 'Tommy'?
At this moment, I sit here at my desk... my head feels achey. It has hurt a lot lately. I think I'll be glad when a few more days go by... this has been quite a weekend. I'm so happy, but... you wouldn't believe it looking at me. I look so drawn, tired, weary... my eyes are red, sleepy looking.
I'm back now, I just came in from the long journey I have been on. One of dark roads, paths. I have traveled in the bowels of pure Hell, while my soul screamed at the pain of losing my son. My book has made it possible for me to be alright now. I had somewhere to release the pain from my very soul.
I know I will cry, I know I still feel the pain, grief... but now... I know everything will be alright. I know I will always feel grief, sadness, pain over the death of my only child. I can accept now, that he is gone. I didn't want to ... before.
May 29, 2010... it will be 3 years since Tommy walked into heaven from the sandy shore of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, on a Saturday evening. He made it in time to play with his little three year old son... it was the first, last time he ever played at the beach with his son.
The last time I saw my son was on the evening of May 28, 2010 ... the last time I saw his smile, heard his voice, saw him walk, eat. It's so sad ... now, I cry because it's just so sad. So sad that a wonderful son, person is gone. I love you, Son.