Grief recovery, loss of child, healing after death & loss 

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Phil at Summer Camp

It is 10:30 PM and I just got home from a movie and dinner with Paul and the girls. I wanted to straighten the guest room so I was in there messing around with stuff and I hung some clothes up in the closet. Phil had a thing that hangs in the closet…..I call it a cubby hanger.

I am not sure what this thing is called for sure but it hangs in the closet and has cubbies for you to place shoes or gadgets or…whatever you would want to store. I remember when we got the stuff from his house, we brought it in and Paul must have just picked it up and hung it in the guest room closet.

I peeked into the cubby and saw some things in it so I reached in and found a photo that Phil had of himself at summer camp. He must have been around 11 or so in this photo.Phillip at Lake Powell

His grandfather Shelton took him to Lake Powell for summer camp that year. He was the cutest kid ever. I remember how excited he was to go and how excited he was when he came back.

He had a great smile and I know he enjoyed going to this camp. The photo is glued onto a small board of sorts. I wondered if they did that at camp and he just never gave it to me. I'm not sure and I don't think I have ever seen this photo before. It tells me this was a good memory for him.

As soon as I saw the photo, once again I had a meltdown. These meltdowns seem to be a common thing…I see or hear something that reminds me of Phil and then I begin to sob….yes, it is the sort of loud, obnoxious sobbing you would expect when a mother loses her child. My legs go limp and I crumple to the floor. It is odd as all these sounds are coming from my body and yet very little tears are left.

It ends with a headache and typically a stomach ache too. I simply feel drained and sick afterward. I am sure someone will simply say, "It's okay dear, it is all part of the process, you are doing great." I hate the process!

When I look at Phil in this photo I remember what a good boy he was. He was always polite and helpful to me. I studied the photo. I remember he always was running and jumping and playing and always had scuffed knees.

I used to love to rub my hands over the top of his head as he had the short hair and it felt pretty cool. It looks like he almost had a flattop in this photo. He had great hair and in the last couple of years he shaved it pretty short. I often gave him a hard time about it and he would just smile and wink at me. I think he didn't want to buy shampoo and conditioner. He said he did it as he was going bald because of my side of the family.

Man I love that kid. Always have. Always will. If I happen to die an old lady in my bed, I am sure one of my last thoughts will be I hope I get to see my boy again. I hope he is happy and he remembers me and he is the one to greet me on the other side. I miss him.

 

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2 Comments  comments 

2 Responses

  1. Suzanne Wingate

    You WILL see him again.  This is fact and truth.  Much love to your broken heart.

     

  2. Hi Michelle,

    I felt so sad reading this, I am crying feeling your pain. I hope so you see him in heaven too.

    Much love, MaryCarmen

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