I wish I could explain to you what I feel… what it is like for these last two years.
I talk and write and paint…
Because sometimes I just have to get it out.
And sometimes I am just grasping at something to keep myself from sliding
Into darkness. Into inescapable thick sadness.
Or being pulled away from reality.
Or slipping into numbness.
Sometimes nothing feels real and I turn here just to find my way back to this world
If you are a parent, I hope you never lose a child.
You don’t want to be here.
I love music, but find great difficulty now in playing it.
I love books, but have stopped reading novels.
Everything is different.
Nothing is normal, and there is nothing ordinary.
And I find myself running out of patience.
And one moment I’m fine. And the next I am angry.
And if it feels like I am putting on a mask or going through the motions,
But my mind is lost in sorrow
Even in my prayers there are long stretches of silence
No words to share with God
Nothing to want. Nothing to ask for.
It is because… just because.
Ethan was a baby once… and grew into a young man, before ending his life
And there are 20 years of memories we have together.
20 years of the sound of his laugh and of his voice.
20 years of learning and playing.
Of being a kid, and a youth, and a young adult.
And that should count for something.
And I guess sometimes I am remembering the laughter of a five year old.
And sometimes it seems like he is so gone, I can’t think of anything.
It is like he has been erased.
And that leaves me full of fear.
And some of the things that go through my head are pretty distressing, even for me.
If it seems like I don’t care… or that I haven’t paid attention
Or it seems like I am looking through you.
Believe me when I say that for the moment, it may be the best I can do.