I miss Phillip.
I am in San Francisco with Paul and Sam. We are having a good time bopping around the city…tasting wine, eating good food.
Sam has just finished a leadership class in Northern California. I am so proud of him. It is a class Phil wanted to go to when he was alive.
The constant and persistent ego is not my friend. The only thing I can do is be diligent in recognizing that my ego wants me to remain sad. Gloomy. Depressed. Guilty. None of these emotions are productive. Sure, I have had them before and was always able to push them aside and laugh. I could see what a funny human I was and how these emotions were not productive. With the death of my son, it is not as easy to laugh. I find that the emotions are more difficult to take to a high place. I don't really care. The little things that used to drive me….well….they just don't seem that important. I don't give a shit if anyone likes me. I don't care if I say hello to them or if I hold my mouth right so they will know I like them.
In other words, I feel a little empty. I want to care, I really do. After having my son die and have his body burn up in the car, nothing really seems to be that big of a deal. The comparison game dulls everything next to that horrific accident. He is gone and my heart has taken a terrible blow. One I used to think I could never get through.
I haven't been writing on here as much because I think my thoughts are not as clear as they normally are. I am raw emotion and that means I am all over the place. There is no sense to it all. Somedays I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't care if they get mad. I don't care if they don't understand. I have a gaping wound that I am tending and somedays I am sure I will simply bleed out.
Some injuries take a long time in which to heal. This injury called grief seems to be one of those for me. I did well when both mom and dad died. I expected them to die, they were old and had lived a very long life. I struggled a bit with thinking I was next. I had to come to grips with my own demise. I knew that I was next in line. Except when I wasn't. Now the game had changed.
I am finding that I am not starting to become the go-to person for people who have lost their children. A women's son overdosed on drugs…..my friends call me to comfort her. Another had a suicide. Today I found out that my other son, Sam, had a friend who killed himself over a girl. I don't think I can provide much comfort. I suppose it is the old saying, "Misery loves company." I don't know what else to think. I certainly have no more words than anyone else. If anything, I have less.
If you have children and they are still alive. Hug them. Hold them. Tell them how much you love them. Don't let them weasle out of your grasp. I used to do this with Phillip. I told him about a woman who had lost her son on facebook a couple of years ago….he said, I know mom that would be sad….then he added something like, I will take care of myself. Nothing will happen to me mom, I promise.
I know you didn't do it on purpose Phillip. I know you wanted to give me comfort. Still, it did happen to you and now here I am….missing my baby. My Phil Phil.