Sharing my mourning journey as my family learns to live a new normal after the death of my 19 y.o. son in an auto accident on 10/12/08.

Almost Pretending

There are days when the only way I know how to make it through is to pretend that Jordan is away at school. I get through the day by telling myself that he would be away at school not at home now anyway. This tactic helps me not to miss him so much. There are days when this strategy isn’t enough. I sometimes make it through with him living his dream of spending a semester in London. I imagine the conversations we would have and how I would vicariously enjoy his time there through him regaling his exploits and adventures.

There are other days when no matter how hard I try I can’t summon the energy to pretend. Grief lies right under the surface of my skin, undulating with sparks that threaten to make me cry out. I wonder as I make it through the day if I’m finally reaching the point where breakdown with all its screaming, pounding force will take over. I don’t trust myself to breathe in too deeply for fear that I won’t release the breath or worse the release will be a scream. How did I get to such a place? I wonder most days how life took such an unimaginable turn. My son is gone and it takes all of my strength to remember that I’m still here to do more than grieve. Pain comes in many forms. Grief hurts.


Comments on: "Almost Pretending" (1)

  1. Beverly Lyles said:

    I wish there were something I could do to help. I really understand a need to imagine an alternate reality, when the one you are living in,provides painful moments that are too much to bear. We do what we must to get through. Your honesty is a gift. How many people, might see themselves in your words, and feel less alone in their struggles, because of it? While you are weary, you are strong. You are willing to delve into this deep and most personal of pains, put it into words, and give it to the world. Our world teaches us to be ashamed of being human. We learn to hide our vulnerabilities, our sadness, our horrors. We are embarrassed when we cry. We dare not admit that we have been wounded les we be deemed weak. Well, your journal proves just the opposite to be so. Your strength comes through every vulnerable, aching word you share. And though you may feel very close to the edge as you live these words, know that every time you share your life through your blog, you are helping other grieving, broken hearts, to hold on, and keep going.

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