I don't know what day it is. I do know it has been two weeks and two days since my son crashed into a tree. The stories continue to come out. There have been witnesses come forward and it brings me some peace to know my son did not get trapped in a burning car…he was dead instantly. I feel good about that. It sounds so weird to say that. To even think that seems weird. I just didn't want him to suffer if he had to die. Apparently he did as he is gone.
His baby girl misses him. She looks around and says dada and runs to the door to see if he is here to pick her up. I show her photos and videos…she seems a bit interested but it is like she knows that is not him.
What day is this again? Someone asked me the date and I had no clue what the date was. When they said it was the 17th of September, I couldn't believe I Had not only forgotten my friend Michelle Biggert's birthday but I had lost two weeks. I don't remember any time going by. It is sort of like the Matrix…..time is going really slow. I feel like I am moving in slow motion and nothing is real.
The emotions that come up are overwhelming. Yes. I said it. Overwhelming. As a coach, I have never liked that word. I don't now that I had ever felt overwhelmed until the day the police showed up at my door and told me my son was dead. Nothing mattered. Time stood still and I wanted it to either speed way forward or better yet….go back a week. I would do so many things differently. An opportunity to "should" on myself. Something I warn my clients about doing…beating myself up. Doesn't work. Still I find myself doing it. I find myself beating my husband up too..he could have done this or that differently.
I find myself lying on the floor in a fetal position many times throughout the day….just sobbing until my head hurts. I have never felt pain such as this. I wake up in the morning and it feels as if someone is sitting on my chest. When I go to bed, I think, wow, made it through another day…and then I wake up and think…shit…another day without Phil.
How can I never talk to him again? Well meaning people say, you can still talk to him. Well of course I can….I just don't know how that looks yet. I miss him. I want to hold him like when he was a little boy. Just sit with him in the chair.
I have Ava Rose. Rosie is what Phil liked to call her. He tried to get everyone to call her Rosie. He tried to get everyone to call me GiGi too. I resisted that big time. I guess he won as now I am calling myself GiGi…much to my dismay. None of that shit matters now. Only my love matters. The love of a mother for a son. I hurt really bad. I will go on and move on. I will never forget him.
What day is this?