Photo Credit (Kevin Momaney)

You’re gonna miss this
You’re gonna want this back
You’re gonna wish these days hadn’t gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you’re gonna miss this

~~~Trace Adkins~~~~

When my boys were young my mom always told me “Once they go to school, the time goes by so quick Tam, they are in kindergarten, then you blink and they are in Middle School, and before you know it they are graduating.” At the time I was in the middle of screaming toddlers, and babies that wouldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn’t see the fact that they were going to grow up so fast.

Kyle is getting ready to move out, and Connor is gone, gone in a way that never returns, gone in a way that all I have left are memories. Memories that I cling to with all I have, like algae clings to your foot when you get out of a lake, or the sand from the beach that wont brush off of your body no matter how hard you try.

I do miss it, I miss running from one Baseball Practice to another. The times when Kyle had Golf at Mohawk and Connor played Suburban Football. Trying to be in 2 places at the same time. I even miss their squabbling and snapping at each other. I miss my boys, I miss them when they were little, all snugly, and even when they were too big to snuggle, when they needed me.

The summers of Tournament Ball, every weekend a different tournament, in a different town. Pack the car on Thursday night, games on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and then get ready to do it all again the next weekend, with practices in between. Once the summer was over we went straight into Suburban Football.  With maybe a week of vacation squeezed in somewhere, if we tried hard enough.

Then he morphed into Middle School Baseball, and Babe Ruth and finally High School Ball, all benchmarks of growing up. Not as needy as before, he could get himself where he needed to be, but still needed Gatorade and seeds on a regular basis.

Kyle needs this, he needs to move out on his own, and grow, and spread his wings, but my house will be so empty. I don’t know if I am really ready for an empty nest, although I would never tell him that he couldn’t go, I’m not that kind of mom. I just know I will miss him, but he wont be far away, I can call him, or text him, and he will come home to visit. It is a different kind of missing.

 

Just over 4 months in to this horror that has changed my life I had a world class sized panic attack. The kind that puts you in the Emergency Room, with your body trying trying to revolt on you. I have to come to terms with the fact that I can’t control everything. I can’t keep everything bottled up inside, and being strong doesn’t mean that I don’t give myself the chance or the ability to just fall apart. That my friends is a big fat lie. Falling apart is a part of this journey, it can be said it is a right of passage. Today my heart blew apart like a thousand tiny puzzle pieces and I began the process of putting it back together. It is a arduous process just like this entire grieving process. There is nothing easy or remotely enjoyable about it. Sometimes I just have to give myself time to cry, wail, scream, be sad and at times give in to my grief. I am just in the beginning stages of this lifelong journey. No amount of sorrow, tears or screaming will bring Connor back to me. But that doesn’t mean that bottling it all up inside will help.

I am beginning to wonder if by having my heart fall apart and then begin to repair, like Dr. Seuss’ Grinch my heart will grow in size and dimension. I will be able to accept things that I never dreamed of. Love and acceptance, like healing comes in stages. I am just 4 months in, just barely scratching the surface of the the first stage of this grief.

Someday I will be able to dig out of the trenches of grief. The shovel will appear and the digging will begin, at this moment I am going one step at a time. Trying to be gentle with myself, my heart and my soul, and most importantly my body. As moms we aren’t wired to do this, so my wiring needs to be diverted, or even removed and changed. Much like my boss removes old Knob & Tube wiring and replaces it with Romex wiring. I will have new wiring to support the new normal that I live in.

See this woman right here? She has walked the same path as me, she lost her daughter Tabitha in 2016. At the time I couldn’t imagine anything worse happening to anyone, and I did my best to try and help her. She is strong, tough really and she pushed on through her grief and pain doing the daily things and trying not to let any of us see how much in pain she was. I know she buried it deep, and someday I may understand that, but right now mine remains too close to the surface. I can’t bury it deep, it pops up at the most inopportune moments.

Missy and I have been bonded for many years, since our babies were in pre-school. Connor and Krystal were boyfriend and girlfriend from pre-school until 7th grade. They spent hours on the phone together, and as much time together as they could. Missy watched my kids when I went back to work, and Connor and Krystal loved that (I’m not sure Kyle was as much of a fan of it, but he dealt with it).

Even when they moved on from “loving” each other, they remained friends, they were there for each other. There when a relationship fell apart, Krystal was there for Connor when his Mimi died and he was there for her when Tabitha died. They rode the bus together, laughed and giggled, and were just the best friends.

Then they both got their licenses and life moved on, they both got cars and the bus didn’t transport anymore, but since they were both at Tech, they still remained there for each other.  Just the way great friends should be, just like Missy and I are grieving, I know Krystal is. She grieves for both Tabitha and Connor. A loss that no young girl should have to experience. She has more in common with Jordan than ever before, they both loved Connor and now they both grieve for him. Life truly is unfair, and I with I could make sense of it. But I just can’t, I just know that Missy and I have walked this path, and will continue, it is a path we never asked for, but we will walk it together, facing this heartache and pain as best we can. Moms forever, Grieving Moms until the day we leave this earth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 days, at sea, with warmth and sun and beautiful blue water, clear skies and puffy clouds. The temperature never dipping below 78 during the day. Amazing food and free flowing cocktails, fantastic friends. 3 days at sea floating in the Bahamas gave me a new perspective on things.

Seeing the scooters in Nassau and knowing that Connor and Jordan would be seeing the island on one of those. That they would be playing in the waves and having a blast made me smile. A melancholy smile but not one full of tears this time.

Would they be trying to figure out what to eat at one of the sit down restaurants on the ship, or would they just stick to the “safe buffet”? Once they could drink they would be hanging out by the pool bar, he in his long wild colored swim trunks and she in a beautiful bikini. Just like the hundreds of young people on our cruise. But they would be different, special because they only cared for each other.

This quick trip to the warmth of The Bahamas gave me renewed perspective on life and loss. I will always see Connor and Jordan in young people in love. But after 3 days at sea with no tears shed, I realized I can do this without racking pain, soul wrenching tears and all consuming heartache. It will never be the same, but it will be ok.

Today was a day where focusing was next to impossible. My brain kept drifting, drifting to Connor’s first birthday, with ice cream cake. His birthday with “Sex in a Bowl”, a family favorite from Missy and Krystal also known as Chocolate Trifle. To the Birthday Parties in the basement, one year I made my own piñata. To the Birthday Party at The Basketball Hall of Fame. When it was just he and Luke walking around and around having a great time. I was the Mom of the Year for that one.

The years of combined Birthday Parties at The Red Roof Inn with Connor, Hunter and Aiden. Swimming and eating pizza and snacks. Us parents enjoyed it, Connor revealed in recent years they weren’t his favorite. He didn’t like to swim and Hunter didn’t like to be the center of attention.

In recent years it was just a couple of friends to hang out, and last year it was Jordan, only Jordan to make him happy.❤️❤️ He never really liked cake, but give him ice cream and he could eat the whole half gallon.

Maybe next day I won’t drift so much, maybe I will be able to handle his birthday a little better. But for now, drifting amongst my happiest memories is the best place to be. The place where I can remember Connor and everything that made him happy.

No matter how long, there never seems to be enough time. Whether it is 17, 27 or 57 years. There is never enough time. But if you ask me if the choice is 17 years or no years, I would instantly tell you 17 years. I would rather have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

“And now I’m glad I didn’t know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance….”

Garth Brooks says it best. There will be pain, but to avoid the pain and the grief that means you have to avoid all the fun things that lead up to it. All the baseball games, all the years of Tournament Ball (traveling all summer), each weekend a different tournament and a different field. The years of Suburban Football, and having to be at a field at 6 am at a place an hr away.

The years of camping as a family and finding sand in shoes months later, watching both of them boogie board long after the lifeguards left. Crabbing and fishing with Mark, even though they never caught a darn thing. Ice cream every night when we were camping, and nightly campfires, when the bedtimes went out the window.

Those are the “dance” times that I will remember, I have pictures of many of them. But even without pictures they are burned in my forever memory.

I wouldn’t have given up those times forever. It made us who we are as a family, I am glad I didn’t know how it would end. But I wouldn’t have changed a bit of their childhood. And I hope that they wouldn’t have either.

I can do the impossible, because I have been through the unimaginable. That has become my mantra. I gave been through hell, and am still in it. Therefore there is nothing else you can throw at me that I can’t handle. I say that with a slight trepidation, because I don’t want to tempt fate. I don’t want the higher power to decide to throw the kitchen sink of awfulness at me.

My most recent dream I am pretty sure came dredging out of my subconscious. Connors Birthday is approaching, and I am not looking forward to it. I have always said he shares his birthday with the day Corporate Taxes are due. Fitting for an Accountant. March 15th can’t come quick enough, or slow enough for that matter this year. I just don’t want the day to occur. It is the next reminder that he is not here to celebrate. To turn 18 with me, to be able to buy a scratch ticket, a standard lottery ticket. As well as be able to tell me for the 15th year in a row “Mom I don’t like cake!! Don’t u remember that? Just get me a half gallon of Black Raspberry Ice Cream and I’m good!, But I love you for wanting to make me cake!”

My most recent dream had Connor in all his personality, all his glory. He had Brad (Jordan’s Dad) with him too. He brought me a plant. A big Boston Fern, and he had it on his head so it made him look like he had Rasta Hair. He also brought a Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Frosting. When I tried to offer him a piece. He laughed and said. The cake is for you, remember I don’t like cake Mom. He gave me a big hug, a kiss laughed again and poof he was gone💨.

I woke up both happy and sad, missing him and loving him all at the same time. Knowing instinctively that this dream was my subconscious rearing its head about stuff I can’t control.

But hoping that it was Connor sending me a sign that he is ok. That he wants me to know that, and wants me to try and heal and be a little happy. Maybe it was a little bit of both. In either case, March 15th will come and there will be cake, if only to remind me that he won’t eat it, but he would take a piece just cause he loves me, and I love him, to the moon and back forever and ever!!💜💙

There are days that I feel I am swimming in this awful churning wave filled ocean all by myself, but I know it isn’t true. I have friends, family, co-workers, my fb friends(some that I have never met in real life), my fb grieving groups. All will be there if I just yell, or even mumble that I need something.

It is difficult as an independent women of the ’80s that was raised to believe that she could do it all and have it all to ask for help, but I did. I have been dreading doing Connor’s taxes, clicking the little box that says ☑️ taxpayer is deceased. So I realized that people don’t just say, “let me know what I can do, or if you need anything I am here”. Just to hear themselves talk. I reached out the CPA that I have worked with for over 14 years and asked him to do Connor’s taxes. No hesitation, no umm I’m too busy. The answer was bring them in and we will take care of it. I felt as if a huge weight was gone, like one of those weights that Jordan’s horses pull had just been magically wiped away.

The same day I made that decision I came home to this box on the doorstep, an unexpected present from a friend that I have had longer than each of us would care to admit. To do so would make us old!!

It is handmade, softer than anything I have ever felt, and is full of my favorite colors, and has little silver sparkles knitted into each end. Karen (and both of her sisters are supremely talented with yarn and needles). I can barely knit a basic scarf, this shawl is a masterpiece, a hand knitted work of art. It came with a card that made the waterworks flow, but they were happy tears. Tears of love and appreciation.

I have always been surrounded by amazing people. I now truly realize how amazing they are. Although my heart is broken, I feel blessed and loved by all of them❤️💙💕

Just when you think that you are rolling along and things are going well, or as well as they can be in your “new normal”. Then you have to go pick up an innocuous piece of paper that rocks your world. This innocuous little piece of paper puts your pain in black and white, gives it nowhere to hide. Within minutes of walking to the car with this piece of paper folded in my hand the tears were streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably. I spent 10 minutes in the car with a tissue pressed to my eyes trying to sop up the tears. Great huge sobs wracking my body, it is times like this I am glad I live in a small town. So no one could witness my meltdown in the Town Office parking lot. I had held it together in the Town Office, chatting with Paula and Colleen, playing with Paula’s dog Olive and generally being a put together adult. That all changed when I had THIS piece of paper in the car. This paper that had to be sent to the SSA. Connor’s death certificate, making it perfectly clear that he was never coming back, ever.

Not that I really believed he was coming back, I just didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, forever and always. It is too hard to accept that reality, accept that no matter how bad I wanted it, or wished for it or hoped for it.

Then the next wave hit me, when I do everyone’s taxes this weekend (mine & Marks, Kyle’s, My Father in-Laws and of course Connor’s). Connor’s will have a finality to it, the little button you click that says ☑️ This taxpayer is deceased and this is final return.😢

I don’t think any of us ever get to the point where we are ok or at ease with the death of a loved one, and especially the death of your child. There are always things that will drag us back to the hell of the grief, the pits of the despair. My hope is that the times between the pits and the hell will become longer. I won’t have as many days where I hide in the car wracked with sobs, glad that no one sees me. That will come with time, for now I am happy for the great memories, his great friends, and my amazing friends and family. Together we will all get through this, weather these storms and come out the other side. Embracing this new normal and learning to live in this world without him, but with all the memories he left me instead.