Messages of Love

Ever since I lost the first person I cared about, I've wondered what happens to them after their passing. But after losing my son, this curiosity has become more of an obsession. I'm just not sure what to believe...

I myself am not religious. I was raised in the church, but I just never bought into the whole God thing. It just didn't click with me. I believe in the concept of being good to one another and trying to be the best person you can, and many of the facets of religion as a whole, but not so much the part about a giant, all knowing, all seeing, yet completely uninvolved entity in the sky. But that is a subject for another day, so back to the subject at hand. 

What happens to us after death? It is a question that has haunted (no pun intended) people for eons. I have talked to many people about this, and have heard everything from "Nothing." to every version of Heaven you can fathom. I really don't want to believe nothing happens. And I find that difficult to believe anyway. It is a fact that we are made of energy. It is also a fact that energy cannot be destroyed. It can however be changed. This leads me to what I have come to believe. 

I think that when a person passes away, their physical body dies. But the energy that they possessed must go somewhere. Since I very strongly feel that ghosts & spirits are real, having witnessed this myself, the idea that a person's energy (or soul) carries on is feasible to me. 

I think we are surrounded by the energies/souls of those that have gone. I believe that just like every person in life was different, so are their souls in death. Some are more energetic, some are quieter, some are angry, some are happy, etc. So their energy manifests itself in different ways. 

I FEEL my son with me. Not in a physical manner, but in an energy that surrounds me. Sometimes it is stronger than others, but it is there. I can't explain it, and if you've never experienced it, you'll probably think I'm crazy. But if you HAVE felt the "presence" of a passed loved one around you, then you know what I'm talking about. 

Since Zachary's passing, myself and others have had signs & messages that we have no doubt are from him. Are we just yearning so badly for proof that he's not gone, that we are reading too much into things? I suppose that's possible. But isn't it also possible that we really are receiving some kind of clue that he is still here? I understand that there are coincidences in life. But when do repeated coincidences become something more? When do we stop making excuses and just accept that some things we just can't explain? Maybe you have to lose someone close to you. Maybe you just have to have faith. Whatever the case, I have chose to accept that my son is still here. That although his physical body is gone, his energy and his soul are not. 

For those of you that have struggled with Grief, and especially the loss of a child, you know the hopelessness and pain that it brings. The sadness and agony that are always just below the surface. If you've ever received a sign or a message from that loved one, you also know the unadulterated joy it gives you. Though it may only be temporary, it is a reprieve from the pain nonetheless. And isn't that the point? They want us to be happy. To carry on. Not to forget THEM, but to try and forget the sorrow. So they are reminding us that they are not truly gone, they have just changed forms. 

Maybe this sounds crazy to you, and that's fine. Sometimes it sounds crazy to me, too. But I am choosing to believe. I am choosing my son over nothingness. So if that makes me crazy, so be it. I can't say I have felt 100% sane these past 5 months anyway. 

So to those who think that their loved ones are sending them messages or signs. Whether they are feathers, butterflies, dreams, music or something else. Embrace them. Allow them to fill your heart and bring you some much needed peace. Even if only for a little while. Where's the harm in that?

Five Months...

Today is five months since my son passed. 
Five months without seeing his smile. Five months without hearing his voice, his laugh. Five months since I held his hand and said goodbye... It feels like an eternity. People tell me it gets easier with time. Since each day has been harder than the last, I find that very difficult to fathom.  How long does it take to accept that your child isn't ever coming home? How long before you stop looking for them around every corner? A year? Five years? Ten? Maybe... but I doubt it. I don't think time is the answer. No amount of time will help this make sense. 
Today has been awful. I cannot stop crying. I sit in his room and stare at his face in photos and think "That's it. That's all there is." What we have now is all we will ever have. There will be no new ones. No college graduation pic, no wedding photos, no tender image of him holding his newborn child. I stare at them hoping to see something new. A cheesy grin I might have missed. But they don't change. I know them all by heart. Every memory is a treasure that I cherish. I live in fear of forgetting even a single moment. 
I have one shirt left that still smells like him. I keep it in a drawer away from other things to try to make it last as long as possible. I only pull it out when I need it most. Today it is wet with my tears. I'd give anything to hug him one more time and inhale his scent. As parents, we take things like that for granted. Their smell, the sound of their breathing as they sleep, the faces they make when they are mad, hurt, scared, happy or surprised. We get so used to them, we don't even realize we aren't paying attention to it anymore. Until it's gone. If someone had asked me 6 months ago if I would ever miss the smell of my son's dirty, stinky feet, I would've laughed in their face. Today, I would give anything to be picking up a pair of his ripe socks off the floor and teasing him about them. I see/hear parents complain about their kids and I think "You have no idea how lucky you are." I'd sacrifice everything for even one eye roll and a snarky remark from my son. See, the thing is, when you lose your child, you don't just miss the good moments, you miss every moment. Because even a pair of dirty socks left on the floor, or a glass of spilled juice, or a broken window means they are still with you. You can still wrap your arms around them. You can still tell them you love them. You can still hear the sound of their voice. To a parent who's lost their child, those moments are priceless and we'd do anything in our power to have them back. 
Today is five months. Five months of wishing I had him back. Five months of hoping this was all just a bad dream and hoping I'd wake up. Five months of wondering if I can make it another day without him. 

The Blame Game

Let me start by saying that the horrible and unimaginable event that took place in Newton, CT is a human tragedy, plain and simple. The lives of countless people have been forever changed. As a parent who has very recently lost my only child, my heart aches for those who went home with empty arms and empty souls. There is NO loss like that of a child. There is no pain more intense and unending. If I could reach out and hold each of them, I would. But since there are no words that can ease the pain they feel, I will merely say that I am keeping them in my thoughts and sending them my love.

That being said, I just cannot sit idly by any longer and read post after post, and tweet after endless tweet where people are laying blame and pointing fingers. 
This is not a political issue. The political party that the man (I refuse to give him any notoriety by using his name.) who did this affiliates with is not responsible for his actions. Heinous crimes are committed every day by people from every class, creed, sex and political affiliation. So let's move on.
This is also not a gun issue. Whether you are pro or anti gun, there is an argument to be made either way. To those who think more guns are the answer, to that I say this: Where does it end? If teachers need guns, then what happens when a teacher freaks out and shoots their students? Do we then give all students guns to protect themselves as well? What happened in CT was in an elementary school. The majority of victims were under 8 years old. That is an illogical and irrational attitude. I for one do not want to live in a world where teachers need to carry arms. I cannot help but picture war torn countries and terrified children, and this is not what I want for my America. So you probably think this means that I want no guns. In an ideal world, we would never need guns. This is not an ideal world. Guns are a very real part of our existence. The idea that we can ever live in a world without them is idiotic. I grew up in a family of hunters, and my husband is a registered hand gun owner. Do we need it? No. Has he ever used it? No. It was passed on from his grandfather, and it is locked safely away where it will probably remain until he decides to get rid of it. I am not pro or anti gun. I can see both sides of the picture. But let's be real honest here. Guns were invented to kill. Plain and simple. So we should not be surprised when they do. I am 100% for better and more strict gun laws across the board. Though they will not keep all of the guns out of the hands of people who intend to use them for harm, they MAY keep some out, and if that means saving just one innocent life, then how could I NOT support it. But banning all guns is not a realistic attitude in this day and age. Period. Do I think your Joe Average needs a military grade, assault rifle? Not in the least. But that is a subject for another time. The bottom line is that a gun did not walk into that school and kill those people. A human being did. And as we all know, it doesn't require a gun to kill people. Bombs, knives and various tools have been used throughout history to do just that. So let's not make this a discussion about gun control, because that is another topic altogether. 
I would also like to point out that this is not a religious issue either. Whether you believe God belongs in schools or not, it is NOT the reason this twisted individual did what he did. Period. GOD can never be banned from schools. If you believe that God is a part of you, and that he is with you always, at all times, than he can never be banned from anything. If you think your children need more God, feel free to send them to a religious school, or attend regular church. That is the beauty of living in a free society. You have the RIGHT to practice any religion you choose. As does everyone else. Prayer was banned from schools in America in the early 60's. I personally grew up in the public school system, religion free. As did nearly everyone I know. I have never, ever even considered committing such an unbelievable act. Have you? Probably not. Is this because you were or weren't allowed to pray in school? Doubtful. It's more likely that you grew up in a home where you were taught right from wrong. You were taught that there are consequences to your actions. And you had the love and support of a good family. The world is indeed changing, and not entirely for the better. Speaking only for myself, I do not practice any religion. Nor does my husband. So obviously my son did not either. Yet somehow, he still managed to grow into a kind, loving, respectful and generous person. God had nothing to do with it. 
And God had nothing to do with the actions of the sick and twisted individual who, of his own free will, shot his sleeping mother in the face and then walked into an elementary school and killed 26 innocent people. 
It is high time that we start placing blame where it belongs. On the individual responsible. A lack of responsibility for our own actions is the biggest issue facing us in the world today. We want to point fingers and make excuses. Well, I find that disgusting. If you get drunk, get behind the wheel and kill 3 people, it is NOT the alcohol or the car's fault. It is yours. If you smoke two packs a day, and get cancer, it is not the cigarette's fault. It is yours. Start owning up people. You have free will, and you make your own choices. It is time to start accepting the consequences for those choices. There is only one person responsible for what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School. All the finger pointing and blaming and excuse making in the world will not change that fact. 
I know that in times like this we want answers. We need to know why. But does it really matter? Would knowing why bring those lives back? Is there ANY reason or explanation that would be good enough? The answer is no. 
So maybe instead of looking for answers to unanswerable questions, let's instead focus on things we can control. Look around you. Take a good hard look at the people you know. Start making honest assessments and paying attention. Someone doesn't generally become a mass murderer overnight. If you see a child, or an adult that seems to fit a certain profile, reach out and do something. Parents, PLEASE start being proactive. Wouldn't you rather be the parent of a child in therapy than the parent of a murderer? Mental illness is a very real thing, and it can be helped. Do your research. Ask questions. Be involved. At every stage of your children's lives. There is no shame in asking for help. Let's take all this energy expelled at pointing fingers and making excuses, and use it towards preventing another heartbreaking tragedy. No matter what your personal beliefs, I'm certain we can all agree on one thing. It is a heart wrenching blow to our human spirit that we will never forget. 

Pain...

Today I ran errands. I looked around at the cars I passed on the street, and the people in line at the store. They all were just going about with their lives. Listening to the radio, buying groceries, being normal. I wondered if I looked that way to them. I didn't feel that way. I felt like a ghost. A shadow just passing through other people's lives. I passed an old cemetery on the way home, so I stopped. I just walked around the graves. Somehow I felt more at home there. Just another lost soul. It was oddly peaceful. For just a little while, I didn't have to pretend. I didn't have to put on a fake smile or hide my emotions for the sake of others. 
Tomorrow would be my son's 19th birthday. I should be baking his cake, picking up last minute supplies and wrapping his gifts. 
Instead it will be the 4 month anniversary of his passing...
There is no cake. No balloons. No gifts this year. There is nothing. When I wake up tomorrow, I will remember that he is gone, and that his special day will be just another incredibly painful reminder of that. As if each day isn't hard enough already. 
I keep thinking that we should do something. Celebrate for him somehow. But it's just too hard. I tried to buy a cake mix today. My hand shook when I picked up the box, and it took everything I had not to break down in the aisle. So I put it back. It's just a stupid cake, but I couldn't do it. Just seeing the candles and birthday decorations made me sick to my stomach. How can I celebrate when he's gone? Just thinking about it nearly drops me to my knees. 
I just want to pinch myself and wake up from this nightmare. I want my family back. I want my life back. I want to see my son celebrate his 19th birthday. And his 21st, his 30th, his 50th... I want this pain to stop. I want to hug my boy and tell him I love him. Is that really so much to ask for? 

The Joys of Crafting...

I've talked about my craft addiction before. I've told you how much I enjoy having a constant outlet for my creative juices. (They tend to get out of hand if you don't direct them at something.) But I don't think I've ever talked about the true joys of crafting. Let me elaborate...
When you get a brilliant idea for a craft at 3:30 in the morning, and cannot fall asleep because your mind won't stop running through all the supplies, etc. Craft joy.
When you think you have everything you need to complete an awesome project, only to realize half way through that you are missing one thing. Craft joy.
When you run the vacuum three times, but still can't get the glitter out of your carpet. Craft joy.
When you burn yourself 18 times with your glue gun, on one thing. Craft joy.
When you see an awesome craft on Pinterest and grab your purse and keys to run to Hobby Lobby to get everything you'll need. Then realize it's Sunday. Craft joy.
When you have paint on every item of clothing you own. Craft joy.
When every single person you know thinks you are their personal crafter for every random project they can think of, or have seen on TV or pinterest. Craft joy.
When people tell you "better ways" to do a project that you have been making for years. Craft joy.
When you find glitter, paint, glue, etc. in strange places, and have no logical explanation for how it got there. Like your underwear, or inside the freezer. Craft joy.
When you're selling your crafts at a show and people talk about how "they could make that" right in front of you. And then proceed to ask you exactly how you made it. Craft joy.
When all available space in closets, cabinets, etc. in your home is taken up with supplies or finished projects, but you're still crafting. Craft joy.
But the biggest one of all. When you go through all of the above, but you still get excited to make crafts. That is real, genuine CRAFT JOY. That is when you know you've got it bad...

Grief: Season 2

I get asked "How are you?" or "How are you doing?" a great deal these days. And as much as I am so very grateful for the care and concern behind the question, I honestly don't know how to answer it. To most people, I say "Fine." or "Doing ok." because that is the easiest response, and generally what people want to hear. To the ones who I think honestly want to know, I have no answer. Or at least not one that can easily be put into words. The real answer is that I am a mess. I may look put together on the outside, but inside is an entirely different story. I have learned to fake being normal quite well. For the most part, I can go about my business and do everyday things while keeping my emotions in check. 'For the most part' being the key phrase there. But the truth is, I feel anything but normal. To be honest, I am not even sure what normal is anymore, and I doubt I will ever feel normal again. So what do I feel? I feel.... like a shell. My body looks the same as it always did, but now it is just a mask. A costume of me. I am merely an actress playing the part of Teena. At least that's how it feels most of the time. The pain is all consuming. There is nothing that I see or do that doesn't bring up thoughts of my son. And even the happy thoughts and memories are accompanied by pain. I am constantly torn between wanting to remember and trying to forget. I want to remember him as he was, and forget that he is gone. I want to see his smile, and forget how he looked in the hospital. I want to recall all the good, and forget the bad. I want to live in denial of the fact that he isn't coming home, but I can't. I want to scream to the Heavens and beg for him back, though I know that it will do no good. This is my constant internal struggle. I want to honor my promise to him, and try and find the joy in life again, but it is so hard. So I get up, and go with the motions. I may even laugh or smile and joke, but I don't feel it. Not really. I just feel empty.
Next week is Thanksgiving. A day to give thanks for all that we have, for the blessings in our lives. I don't feel very grateful these days. I'm sure I should. I still have a lot to be thankful for, but I don't care about any of it. Thanksgiving is also the official start to the holiday season. A reminder that Christmas is right around the corner. I am not celebrating it this year. I just can't. It's too painful. December is probably going to be the hardest month yet. Zachary would've been 19 on December 4th. Instead we will mark the 4 month anniversary of his passing. Not exactly cause for celebration. There won't be balloons and cake. No singing Happy Birthday and teasing him about being old enough to drink in Canada now. Nothing. Just a never ending sadness. Follow that up with Christmas? No thanks. Just being in the stores and seeing all the decorations and stuff is incredibly difficult. I don't want to hear the music. I don't want to see the lights. My list to Santa is short. I only want one thing. I want my son back. Nothing else matters. So I plan on skipping it this year. And maybe every year from now on.
So if you are reading this, I apologize in advance for my lack of cheer and jolliness. If you come to our house, don't expect to see a tree, or festive decor. You won't be getting a card from us either. We still love you, and hope that you have a wonderful holiday, but you'll just have to forgive us if we don't seem real into it. Please just be understanding, and try not to think too harshly of us if we choose to skip your dinner or party, as well. I will try to keep my feelings to myself, but if they slip out from time to time, try not to judge me.

My Boy Child and I in our ugly sweaters. Christmas 2011. Our last Christmas together...

A New Day

It's Wednesday morning, the day after the election. I open my facebook newsfeed to see endless negativity and hate. All because one man beat another man in a popularity contest. Is this high school or America?? 
This isn't about who has the better hair, who looks better on camera, or even who is right or wrong. Elections have become a giant pissing contest. Instead of talking about what they plan to do for our nation, they end up focusing on slandering each other. Debates are arm wrestling matches between two giant children. Political ads are catering to idiots with ugly lies and half truths. This needs to end. Democrat or Republican, I don't care. We are all on the same team. This is America. At the end of the day, we all want the same thing. Health, happiness, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, the comfort of knowing we are safe in our own homes, job security, a good, solid education for ourselves and our children and freedom. Does that about cover the basics? Rich, poor, christian, atheist, gay, straight, black, white, male or female. We all want the same things. Are we really so selfish that we cannot see that? Is it honestly acceptable to think that one group of people deserves more or better than another? Because I'm pretty sure Hitler thought the same thing. Are we striving to be like him? Our ancestors came to this land and started this country on the idea that everyone deserves to be equal. That freedom meant you wouldn't be persecuted for your individual beliefs. That a nation could be run not by a religious group, or a rich king, but by the people. We are those people. We fought long and hard for these rights, yet we forget what they really mean. We are in this together. We are a team. And there is no I in team. Remember in school, when you were taught that it's not about winning or losing, that it's how you play the game? That afterwards, you shook hands with the other team and said "Good game." and you meant it. That was being gracious. A term that we are growing very unfamiliar with in this country. And don't get me started on teamwork. Even Michael Jordan knew when to pass the ball. In almost every team sport there is offense and defense. They have two different jobs, they do very different things, but they are on the same team. They work towards the same goal. Is this concept so insane? Why can't political parties do the same thing? Aren't we all working towards the same goal? Don't we all want those same things I mentioned before? Then why are we fighting each other? There is this thing called compromise. Maybe some of you are familiar with it. It's where two groups work together to come up with a plan that works towards the benefit of everyone. Yes, everyone. Not just a few. Is this really so hard? Maybe if we stopped fighting each other so much and spent less time worried about who is right or wrong, and winning or losing, and more time compromising, things would actually get accomplished. That's crazy talk, I know. Instead of trying to convince the world that your beliefs/views are the ONLY ones, how about focusing on the bigger picture. If you think having good and affordable medical care is the bottom line, then stop bickering over whether or not it covers birth control or abortions and make it happen. Leave the rest up to the people. Don't believe in abortion? Great, then don't get one. It doesn't mean it can't or shouldn't be an option. You don't see the blind lady bitching that her insurance covers glasses, do you? No, because it doesn't affect her, so why should she care? Basic wants and needs are universal. Marriage is the legal commitment of ones love. That's the bottom line. Oh, so your personal religion believes that marriage is only between a man and a woman? Then don't hold gay weddings at your church. Simple as that. But withholding another human's rights based on your personal beliefs is exactly what we came to this country to avoid, is it not? Then why are we still even talking about these things? Your personal beliefs, religious affiliations, and sexual preferences are your own to sort out. Not mine, or anyone else's. They should never even be brought into debate on a public scale. Doing this makes us no better than the men who burned women at the stake for being witches because they bled when they were stabbed. And it makes just about as much sense. Government cannot control everything, nor should it. There is fact and opinion. Politics should deal in facts. Period. Are you entitled to your opinion? Yes. But, guess what. So is everyone else. Are we going to agree on everything? Not a fat chance. But that's the beauty of it. We don't have to. But we do have to live together. So why not do it in peace? Why not compromise and give everyone the chance at having a good and happy life? Why can't we agree to disagree on the unnecessary details, and just do what is best? Is this really so hard? Stop and take a second to examine your life. Are all your friends the same sex as you? Are they all the same religion? Do you all make the same amount of money? No? Well fancy that. You have different views and lifestyles, yet you are still friends. You probably argue from time to time, but you still love each other. You agree to disagree. You compromise. See! We ARE capable of this. If we can do it on a small scale, then it is really so hard to do it on a large one? 
"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." It's as simple and basic as that.