2 Years Out

Anniversaries. Some are good, some not so much.

Yesterday, April 7, we were 2 years out. I didn’t really have any expectations for where I would be in this journey of life without Mason. While I know things will get better, I know they will never be right. That being said, I’m not expecting an improvement. I’m not holding my breath for it.

This has all been very taxing for me, to say the least. It takes a lot of my strength. While I try to concentrate on Brandi, Isabella and Jackson, Mason is always in the back of my mind. Wishing he was here to see all of this.

I’ve really wanted to keep this blog going. I read other blogs written by people who have lost a child. Some are like me in that they quit after a year or two; just nothing new to write about. Then there are others who seem to write almost every day. I wish I had that capacity to do that. I just can’t come up with anything new. I guess for a while, the entries will be sporadic.

Been a while…….

I’m tired.

Work has finally slowed down.  Now I’ve got some time to spend with the family.  Time to reflect on the things that have happened in the last 15 months.

The pregnancy is going well.  Come September 13th, I intend to be holding my little Jackson Reed in my arms.  Pretty excited about that.

We just returned from our annual family vacation.  This year we went to Branson, MO.  I had my doubts about that place, but if you’ve never been, it’s worth going.  The day that we arrived in Branson, our realtor called us and let us know that someone would be putting in an offer on our house.  It looks like it’s going to sell.  We’re pretty happy about that too.  We’ll stay close to the doctors and hospitals for a while.  Our history makes that a good idea.  We’ll start seriously looking for a new home after the first of the year.

Of course with a move coming up, there’s packing to be done.  We hadn’t touched Masons room since he passed.  Other than just general cleaning and such.  Saturday, we went through everything.  Everything EXCEPT his suitcase that he had when he went to Nana’s house the last time.  We can’t open that yet.  We’ll just take it with us and we’ll open it when it’s time.  I knew it would be tough.  Going through all of his clothes.  Sifting through old drawings he had made and stuffed in his desk.  Reading some of his stories that he liked to write.  I knew it would be tough.  But it was worse than that.

It’s just not fair that the whole world is going on without him.  He’s got a baby sister to look after.  He’s got a baby brother that he’ll never get to meet.  Words just can’t express the pain and emotion that I feel.  I have been trying to hold it in, but I feel like I am at my breaking point.  I don’t know why I feel like I need to hold it in, I just do.  but I don’t think I’ll be able to restrain it much longer.  It really feels like everyday is harder than yesterday.

I’ll try to write more, but it’s really hard when there’s nothing to say.

Paying a debt

¹³ Then David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.”

Nathan replied, “The Lord has taken away your sin. You are not going to die. ¹⁴ But because by doing this you have shown utter contempt for the Lord, the son born to you will die.”

2 Samuel 12-13 – Nathan Rebukes David

More on this later….

Later……..

I meet with a couple of very good friends every couple of weeks or so, whenever our schedules can all match up.  We basically have a little sit-down, informal discussion on how we are doing and how our relationship with the Lord is.  It’s been a very healthy thing for me to do, especially of late.

Going to these meetings, the ‘leader’ gets these little handouts for us.  It’s called Men of Integrity.  Can be found here:  http://www.christianitytoday.com/moi/

Anyway, I was reading through it last week sometime, catching up on a few of the articles in there when I got to this one by Perry Noble.  It is as follows:

What he Said … A Misguided and Damaging Belief

Having served in ministry for more than two decades, I’ve seen a common idea that simply isn’t true dominate the landscape of the church. And in my opinion, it’s one of the most damaging beliefs a Christian can hold.

Here’s the false idea: “God will never give you more than you can handle.”

I suspect we’ve all had this concept pitched to us at some point as one of the key principles of the faith. We’ve heard it from the lips of other Christians; we’ve read books about it; we’ve seen the phrase on bumper stickers. But I’m telling you, it simply doesn’t ring true—from the standpoint of human experience or from God’s Word. When we buy into this false idea, it only leaves us confused, frustrated, and angry.

The truth is, God often allows us to face more than we can handle. But it’s not because he’s cruel or heartless. It’s so we’ll stop trying to live life on our own strength and learn to depend on his.

Key Study Passage: 2 Corinthians 1:8-11

The little booklet has articles like this set up on a daily basis.  This particular one was dated April 7.  The 1st anniversary of Masons death.

I’ve always heard that God won’t give you more than you can handle.  Maybe that’s not true.  I guess God won’t give you more than He can handle.  That sets the bar pretty high, cause He can handle anything.  Everything.

So, maybe I’m wrong, but my interpretation of that is that God will overload us to teach us a lesson.  Just like he taught David a lesson.  Again, I’m no angel.  I’ve done some bad things in my life.  But, I think I could have gotten by with an easier lesson.  I’m still not sure what the ‘lesson’ is supposed to teach me.

All I know right now is that I am in a very dark place right now.  I spend too much time alone, away from my family.  During my time away, I have an idle mind.  Idle minds are a dangerous thing.

Half a Million

Half a Million.  Five Hundred Thousand.  500,000

Seems like alot.  I guess it just depends what it is.  I guess it’s all relative.

But, for those that are counting, like me, it’s been 500,000 minutes since Mason left us.

I have thought about him nearly every one of those minutes.  Every day, at some point in time, I will have a memory lapse.  Not that I forgot about him, but that I forgot he was gone.

And then it hits me.  Hits me like I am re-living the time we got the phone call.  Re-Living the drive to the hospital.  Re-Living the time we spent at his side in the ER.  Re-Living closing his casket.  Re-Living lowering him into the ground.

Half a Million minutes.

I’m Tired

I’m Tired………….

of the nightmares…..

of the depression……

of being angry……

of not being understood……

of being (feeling) ignored……

of others criticizing the way I handle MY grief……

of wishing I had done things differently……

of the guilt I carry……

of the self-imposed pressure I create……

of looking at my son’s name on a headstone……

of walking past his empty room……

of hurting……

of being tired……

300 Days

300 Days……………………………………………

 

I remember the first time I had to leave Brandi & Mason to go work out of town.  I wasn’t working that far away, I made trips home on the weekends.  But those 5 days and nights away from them almost killed me.  I knew I couldn’t go any longer than that without seeing Mason.  5 days away from him was painful.  300 days away from him is hell.

A lot has happened in the last 300 days.  All kinds of national tragedies have our country in an uproar.  Yet, we all still go on taking it day by day.

His little sister is a year older.  She is growing up so fast, I wish he could be here with her.

Brandi is pregnant, so God willing, we’ll have another addition to the family this September.  The first person who tells me that this baby is to “replace” Mason, I’m going to unload on them.

Just the other day, on a message board I was posting on, I was discussing just how angry I was/am with the death of Mason.  It’s really unimaginable.  I really can’t put it in to words.

That night, I got a reply to a message I had sent on facebook shortly after Mason had passed.  On Mason’s memorial page from the funeral home, the following message was placed:

“My son and Mason were classmates this year. We just learned of the heartbreaking news. I had to pull my son out this week for homeschooling due to harassment from other children. Only Mason was different he says. When no other boy would sit with him at lunch or talk to him Mason was always there. Thank you Mason for being a wonderful friend to my son! God bless your family”

I was so proud of Mason for that.  I am proud of Mason for that.

I located the person who sent made that comment on facebook and sent them a message thanking them for the kind words.  It brought tears to my eyes and a huge smile on my face.

The other night, I got a response.  She apologized for taking so long to respond, it seems facebook has an “other” inbox for messages.  I wasn’t aware of it till she told me.  Anyway, the message I had sent thanking her was placed in the “other” box and she had just found it.  She told me of a conversation relayed to her from her son that Mason had had with him.  She wanted to talk with me about it instead of just typing it up in an email or message.  She asked me to call her when I was ready.  She said it had to do with Heaven.

I gathered myself together and made the call.  She was very emotional on the phone, as was I.  Evidently, her son thought very highly of Mason and talked about him all the time.  Mason had that effect on people.  Now, I’m paraphrasing here.  I don’t remember exactly everything we talked about, but here’s the gist of it.  They were talking about death.  Since Mason had a heart transplant, it was discussed that he would not live as long as everyone else.  He, Mason, said that he knew.  He was excited to go to Heaven and get his wings.  He would become an Angel and he would look over his Momma and little sister, Isabella.

I thanked her for making contact with me.  It was good to hear so many nice things about Mason.  Needless to say, I was crying by the end of the conversation.

I, we, have had many conversations with people who think that Mason knew he was dying.  Brandi and I don’t think he knew.  As emotional of a child as Mason was, he would have been a basket case.  He’d have been a nervous wreck.  Maybe subliminally he knew.  We’ll never know.

300 days is a long time.  I hope he is up there looking down on us.  I hope that he is not worried about anything.  I hope he’ll be waiting on me at the Pearly Gates when I get there.  We’ll have a lot to catch up on.  Likely, we’ll have a lot more to discuss than 300 days………….

Life Sentence

I’m taking the day off from work today to go spend some time with him at the cemetery.  That in itself is kind of odd.  I probably wouldn’t have taken the day off if he was still alive.  So many things were taken for granted.  I always have tomorrow.  I always have next time.

Or so I thought.

I probably will always will have tomorrow.  I’ll probably live to be 120 years old, so that I can have all of my regrets revisit me each and every morning for as long as possible.  Delaying my reunion with Mason for as long as possible.  Stretching out my sentence.

That is what it is.  A sentence.  A Life Sentence.  This is my punishment for all the things I have done.

My Little Shadow

This just kinda came to me as I drove in to work this morning.  Thought I would write it down and share it with others.  It’s probably a work in progress, so I may add more later.

My little Man, My little Shadow

My how quickly things can change

Everything is going well, nothing too strange

Then the phone rings, we need to go

You are my little man, my little shadow.

–

I spent many nights in the bottom of the bottle

Looking for you in there left me lonely and hollow

I knew that the bottle was no way to go

You were my little man, my little shadow.

–

There are so many things we didn’t get to do

So many plans I had laid out for you

When you left us, it was a heavy blow

You were my little man, my little shadow.

–

I wish your little sister could have really known you

We’ll tell her everything, all the funny things you used to do

Oh Mason, how we miss you so

You were my little man, my little shadow.

–

Sometimes I dream you are calling out to me

I can’t find you, no matter how hard I seek

I wish you could come down, just to say ‘hello’

You are my little man, my little shadow.

 –

My heart is broke, never to fully heal

I am scarred for life, the hurt is very real

I try to hide the pain, don’t let it show

But you were my little man, my little shadow.

Rock Bottom

Not there yet.

It appears that I have a ways to go to get there.  Scary thought.

Most of the other blogs and books I have read concerning grief state that the second year is the bad year.  The first year, your mostly in shock and disbelief.  They also say that there is no real time-table on how/when you should grieve.  Great.

I wrote about it before, but I’ll say it again.  I seriously fucked up coming back to work so soon after Mason passed.  Seven days after he died and 2 days after his funeral, I was back at work.  What else was I to do?  I figured work would keep me plenty busy and I could just immerse myself in that instead of my grief.  So, for the next 40 days or so, I worked.  Brandi stayed with family and I stayed at the camper.  Alone.  So, I worked during the day and drank myself to oblivion at night.

I’m not the smartest man in the world, but I did realize that I was going down a path that could lead to a lot more damage.  So, I toned it down.  I still have the occasional drink, but they are few and far between.  I’m not going to say that it is handled, but it is a lot more under control.

The other issue I have been dealing with is work itself.  I have found that I just about despise this place.  Don’t get me wrong, the people are great.  It’s a good job.  But coming back here so soon when I really didn’t want to be here has left me with a feeling of resentment.  Also, I find that I can’t concentrate on things anymore.  My memory is just about completely shot.  If I don’t write it down, I probably won’t remember it.  I can’t perform like I used to.  Bigger problem is that I don’t care.

It would be nice to just pick up and go start again somewhere new.  But, I’m a one-trick pony.  This is the only thing I know how to do.  I could take a lesser job, but that wouldn’t be fair to the family.  I need to provide for Brandi & Isabella the best that I can.  They both deserve way better.  I’ll do the best for them as I can.  Hopefully, that will be enough.

I see that things are going down hill.  I have found myself getting more and more aggravated with people in general.  Those that knew me before know that I was a pretty easy going guy.  I never got wound up about anything.  That guy is not here anymore.  I hope that I will be able to maintain some sort of normalcy through this whole process.

The next year or two will be extremely difficult.  I am thankful for my family and friends.  I hope that none of you ever have this experience.  I am extremely thankful for Brandi and Isabella being here.  If not for my two girls, who knows where I would be.

FAIL!!!!!!!!!

I can’t get past it.  Probably never will.

In my head, I know that it’s bullshit.

In my heart, I feel like I failed Mason.  I did not protect him.  The only job I had to do, the only thing I had to do for Mason was protect him.  I failed.  It’s really that simple.  He died.  Other kids are still alive.  Other dads still have their kids.  They are protecting them.  My son is dead.  I failed him and he is gone.  Forever.

How the fuck am I supposed to live with myself?

I’m also dealing with some horrific thoughts as well.  Every time I close my eyes here lately, I think about my poor boy in the casket, in the ground, rotting.  I can see him.  I can see the……  Nevermind.

I’m hurting.  The day can’t come fast enough that I can rest next to him.

And yet, I NEED to be here for Isabella.  I WANT to be here for Isabella.  I WILL be here for Isabella.