Patches Of Darkness...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Yesterday, I managed to go through the day feeling good. Several times I 'felt the darkness', I pushed it away.
Last night I needed to go through my photos to pick several of Tommy, Taban, McKenzie, Skip and I... to send to someone who doesn't have photos of them. No one sent photos to him, he is a non-person to them... just as we have become since Tommy died.
While looking at them, I became sidetracked.... by grief. I felt an overwhelming wave of grief splash over me, enveloping me in a suffocating vacuum. My heart hurt in my chest, I felt so faint, my head began to hurt immensely.
I am feeling it now, as I write. I found several photos of Tommy ... when he first began driving a big truck. He was so proud. He was so happy ... then. I looked like his sister, instead of his mother. People never believed I had a son his age... how we used to enjoy laughing in a happy way about that!
My son... I've said it many times, I've thought it many times... I miss you so much. I see other sons in my everyday life... I can't help but, to notice. I wish for my son, whom I was so proud of, loved with my very heart.
I just became aware of 'me'... I propped my elbow on my desk, hand under my chin... my eyes were closed... feeling some relief from the instant headache that came on again this morning.
Grief... grief does strange things to one. It's sometimes like wading out in the water, going out farther than intended. Getting in water over your head, panicking..... your heart is beating so fast, your breath is cut short and your lungs are burning for air. Your head begins 'splitting open' with a terrible headache. 'I hurt so bad' .... your mind screams.
I have become aware of 'me' again... my elbow is again on my desk as this time my hand is covering my eyes, fingers massaging my forehead trying to rub the pain, the hurt away. Even my eyes hurt, they are dampened with my tears.
I want to just lay down and cry myself back to sleep. I just may do that shortly. Sometimes one can only pretend so long.... sometimes one has to 'give in'... at least alittle to 'let some of the grief' out..... like a kettle sitting on the stove steaming... one needs to vent it, turn it off.
I know I will be alright again... it's not like 'before' when for months.... I wouldn't be alright. 'Now'... I know that I will be alright even in hours, or a day, or several days. That's so much better than 'months'.
You are reading the words of a grieving mother... you are reading the very real words of 'how it feels'. I still haven't found on the internet anything from a grieving mother in 'real words describing the pain'.... it may have helped me to understand more the grieving process.
Who knows... maybe my words 'telling it like it really is' will be read by a mother who has lost her child when she is desperately trying to find comfort, just something to hang onto like a life raft, helping her to come back, to not drown like I did.
I still 'drown'... today is July 26, 2012. Tommy died (that word provokes a heart-wrenching reaction in me)........ May 29, 2010.
Died... died... died....... death.... son... my son died... oh my God, my son died. Tommy, please don't be dead! Please come back. Your photos are so real to me, I 'know you', you are my own flesh and blood... I can't believe you... died. Oh Tommy!
I don't even bother to ask 'why'? I haven't asked 'why' since Tommy's been gone. I know I won't have a satisfactoy answer to my question. Sometimes I do ask 'is he really dead... is it possible he's here and I don't know it'?
My mind goes back for the three years he was missing as a young boy... he came back... could he come back ...now? Is he 'just missing'?
In my mind I see 'the box over there to the right of me'. There's alot of light there... but, my eyes refuse to look. I can't look... even now in my mind... I avert my eyes and turn my head to the ... left. I don't want to see..... my son lying there 'in that box'.... dead. That word 'dead'........ that word.
I have just sit here crying silently... I always cry silently so, I don't cause grief to anyone else. I don't want to upset our Pups who are lying here near me. If Skip were to walk in the room... I would begin to smile at him. He doesn't have to know... it hurts him so much to see me cry. I don't want to ever hurt Skip.
He is my very life, him and our Pups. They are my 'ship' that keeps me from drowning in the ocean of grief. I don't want to be in the deep, dark waters of grief... sometimes, I have no choice... somehow I step 'off my ship'... I try to fight to get back on it.... without calling for help... without letting Skip know.
At this moment ... mentally, I'm 'pulling myself back up the netting' hand over hand 'to get back aboard my 'ship'. What made me fall off 'this time'?
It began yesterday morning... I managed to push it back until... yesterday evening. Sleep was a blessing last night...
Do I sound crazy? If I do... then... maybe I am. Maybe really... I'm not. I'm in both physical and mental pain... my body and my mind hurt at the same time. It's quite a combination...
I realize what has happened... I think when one begins to 'realize what is happening'.... that it means 'half the battle is won'. I wonder if 'half my battle' grieving ... is won?
Honestly... I think I've really come so far on this 'healing path'.... in my mind I'm seeing so much sunshine, light on it. It used to be 'all dark' and as I inched forward in my mind... it began to have little splashes of light, sunshine I could see in the distance.
It took forever to get to a 'lighted path'......... 'now' my path is full of sunshine, in the distance I can 'see little splashes of darkness' I will have to travel through. I will continue 'forward'.... I will face the darkness I'll have to travel through to get to the other side.
Writing.... sitting here in my own little world with my thoughts... putting my thoughts into words. I'm like the little kettle sitting on the stove steaming... as I write my words, I'm 'venting, turning me off'. The pressure is going away now... I'm going to be alright. I feel it as it goes away at this very moment.
I didn't have to affect anyone else with my grief, hurt them or make them sad. I'm so glad. It's 'all been quiet'.....
I am looking ahead in my mind, I think I may have just traveled to the end of this 'patch' of darkness 'for now'. I know many patches are ahead... but, the distance through them... will be shorter. I'm really going to be alright... and it's all been ... quiet.
There's sunshine now, ahead... I can build more strength to be stronger... before I enter the patches of darkness that are still on my healing path.
My God. I cannot believe how strong you are! My son's been gone for four years and I still CANNOT grieve. He was a quad and 27 when he passed away from a fall. A company was hired to place a lift in my home and it collapsed with my son in the higest possible placement. The lift came crashing down on the both of us one night. He sustained blunt injury to the head (amng other injuries)and died of a closed head injury almost a year later after an agonizingly slow painful death in spite of being on massive doses of pain meds and chasing drs for almost 9 months because every night he'd cough up and choke on blood. Aside from that, he had such a full life with friends and activites- God he was fearless in that wheelchair! Loved his rock and roll, parasailing, couldn't drive a car but could drive a boat. Gloria- your son died 2 MONTHS ago!! I am in awe of your strength. By that time after Chris's passing I was sitting numb unable to talk to anyone. I used to be in awe of my strength when he was alive. I was a warrior mom- his strength- his voice. He was my only child and now for four years, I don't know what to do with me. Thank God for my blog and bloggers like Bearman, Frigging Loon, and Madhatters (longtime blogfriends. How do you grieve? I just don't get it. I don't know how. My physical health is not good- autoimmune blood disorders are consuming my body and drs say "You need to grieve"seding me to psychiatrists, psychologists, hematologists etc.... I so wish I could, so wish I knew how. I really envy you. So I do what I know- plan shit. I moved to Thailand and started an organization. (See Red's Green room- I posted replying to you.) I want to say you are awesome, I want to follow your progress. Maybe you are my lifeboat but I feel as though I should be yours. I worry about you though- I wonder if your darkness is just beginning, if youre in denial. I'd like to keep in touch with your blog to see how you get along. My best to you sweetie. For me it' is a long harrowing road that is yet to shed light on the end.
ReplyDeleteLynn, I apologize with my heart... my son died May 29, 2010... I didn't realize I made a mistake. I just corrected it here, and will go to each blog I have to correct it.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry I wasn't what you hoped I would be... I haven't been 'that strong'. I was in really bad shape.
I am so sorry about your son, Lynn. I felt your pain with my heart. I will visit your blog. Sincerely, Gloria/Granny Gee
Still, not long ago- you're my hero Gloria. You're really inspiring. Maybe there is hope for me afterall. My goal is to get to a pont where I can even talk about it at all. You're the first one I've really opened up to like this. None of my blog peeps know. A very few know of the situation but I could never bring myself to post about it or my feelings or my physical issues relationing to my grieving process or lack thereof. It's not that you weren't what I hoped for, I just thought it was wild how I came across your site the way I did. I mean I never meet anyone who's lost a son. I feel like I'm in my own little club ya know? I'd never dare go to a suport group. Well thanks for caring enough to reply. In my experince folks never seem to give a rats ass- just my experience. Peope let me down regularly in life. Perhaps that's why I ended up with nobody. (true)Not a sob story it is what it is. You can't imagine the losers in my family- better off without them though. Trust me,I've been avoiding crazy my whole life. Lol
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