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The Last Time Sucks

Today marks 3 months since my son Dale died. they say the firsts after a death are hard, first holidays, first birthdays, first time doing something without the person who passed away. Yes, all of those things are hard, but so are the last things. Today is the last time I will ever do Dale’s laundry. Dale was not living with us at the time of his death. Since his passing I have been trying to collect his belongings. Some people have been very thoughtful and called or messaged me to ask if I wanted something of Dale’s that they had. In some cases I said yes, while in others I told them to keep the items. I recently got a bag full of some of his belongings. All clothes. I washed the first load yesterday and spent time folding the clothes today so that they can be donated. Dale was an adult and living on his own, so I didn’t ever expect to wash his clothes, yet sometimes he would stop by to do his laundry and I would help up, maybe with the folding, or maybe I would just watch as he folded. During that time we would talk. This will be the last time I ever fold my son’s clothing. I broke down and cried. The last time sucks!

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Grief

Happy Ending to the Year?

2020 was a rough year for everyone, including me.  For me, it was a different reason than most people.  At the beginning of October, my son died. It was sudden and unexpected.  He was sick, although not from covid.  He checked himself into the hospital and a few short hours later he was gone.  Gone.  It was too fast, too sudden.  We rushed to the hospital.  They were still doing compressions when we got there.  They worked on him for a long time, but his heart would not start.

I believe that God has a plan for everything.  He gives us freewill to make choices, yet at the same time he knows what we will choose.  That thought was always hard for me to comprehend as a child, and I am not sure I fully understand it now, yet I know that God has a plan.  Even so, I don’t know why God’s plan included letting my son die when he was just 29 years old.  Nevertheless, I still trust in the Lord, and that He had a plan for my son’s life.  God knew just how many day’s my son would have on this earth, how many minutes and how many seconds.  For many years my son told me that he didn’t think he would live to be 30.  When we celebrated his 28th birthday he told me he thought he would not have lived to see 28.  I scoffed at him and told him that he was wrong about 28 he would be wrong about 30.   I was wrong.  Was God preparing him?  Was God preparing me?  If so, it did not work, I was not prepared.  I am still not prepared and tomorrow it will be 3 months from the day he died.  Yet, God still has a plan.

This video was recorded at the end of 2020.  I tried over and over to express my thoughts about 2020.  I can’t blame a year for bad things happening.  Bad things happen all of the time, every year. It just seemed it 2020 hit me hard.  Yet I have hope for the future.

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This is my Son

My 29 year old son died, unexpectedly, almost two months ago.  It was tragic and I miss him so much.  Two years ago we took a trip to the Twin Cities, while we were there we visited the Mall of America.  It was a fun trip filled with good memories.  It is just a tiny glimpse at my life with my son.

 

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The Waves of Lake Superior

It was the first of November when we heard there were going to be big waves out on the Great Lake, so we jumped in the car and took a drive.  It was a beautiful day, with a strong, gusty wind.  We were not disappointed, the waves were beautiful.

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Life

Will I Remember?

Remember Dale

Someone asked me if I had any plans for the one month mark after Dale’s death.  Oh boy!  I had not even thought of that.   Here is what has been on my heart…what if I can’t remember? What if, as the years pass, I can’t remember Dale.  What if I can no longer remember what he looked like or what he smelled like, or how he would hug me?  What if I can’t remember?  I do not want to forget.  As the years pass will I remember Dale?  That thought grieves me to no end.  As I sit here typing this I cry, lots and lots of tears.  Will I remember Dale?  Will I remember how generous he was?  Will I remember how he was always willing to lend a hand?  Will I remember that I always knew that if I called him, he would come.  Will I remember he was always there for me.  No matter how much he struggled in his own life, others always came first.

My last conversation with him he asked me how he could help others when he could not even help himself.  Yet he tried to help himself.  Even at the end, he was trying.  Dale was an alcoholic.  He went to treatment twice, yet the addiction would not loosen its grip on him.  Five days before he died, he stopped drinking.  Cold turkey.  His body could not handle it.  He checked himself into the hospital.  Suddenly things went bad.  That is what the doctor told me.  His heart could not  take it and it stopped.  They worked on Dale for a long time.  Yet his heart would not work on its own.  Dale never gave up, he kept trying.  I always want to remember how hard Dale tried.  How much he loved his family.  How much he loved his friends.  How much I loved him.  He once talked about dying.  I told him he could not die, I would be devastated.  I was right.  I am devastated.

Since being asked that question about plans for something to mark one month, I have been giving it a lot of thought.   It is winter here where we live.  The ground is already covered in snow.  We won’t be able to put a grave marker on his grave until spring.  I want to do something for the winter months, to mark his grave.  I want to be able to see where he is, from the road.  I think I will put one those bent rods that hold hanging flower baskets at the head of his grave.  I have seen others at the cemetery so I know they are allowed there.  I won’t be able to hang flower baskets with real flowers, but maybe I can place other items.  At least his grave will be marked and I will be able to find it. That thought brings me some comfort.  Now that I have thought of this, I don’t want to wait until the one month mark.  I want to do it right away.

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Trying to be UP

It has been 25 days since my son died.  25 days!  I have cried each and every one of those days.  Today I cried when I looked at his little dog snuggled up in my bed.  Each time Dale would come to get her she would get so excited.  It was if she would say to Dale…I thought I would never see you again.  She was always that excited to see him.  It breaks my heart that she will never see him again.  That I will never see him again.  I don’t have enough photos of him.  I don’t have enough videos of him. I don’t have him.  He was not with me all of the time.  I didn’t see him every day, I didn’t even talk to him every day, yet I knew he was there, that he was just a phone call, or a text away.  If I needed him he would be here in a heartbeat.  Now he won’t.  I am so sad.  Each day I am sad.  Sad that he is gone.  Sad that he is not a phone call away.  Sad that I will never again hear him say…”Because I am Dale.”  or “Hey momma.”  So, so sad.

Today as I scroll through facebook or instagram I see so many happy smiling faces.  Just a month ago my own feed showed happy, smiling faces.  I know that soon I will once again show happy smiling faces, yet there will be a sadness behind those smiles, a sadness behind those happy faces.   The loss of my son has taught me that.  It taught me what I already knew…it brought it home for me.

Categories
Life

Ball in the Box Analogy

My sister shared this with me yesterday. I am not sure it explains grief perfectly…I doubt anyone could do that, but it is something to consider.
Grief is a tricky thing to consider.  Someone once compared it to a moving ball in a box with a grief button.  At first the ball is as big as the inside of the box and the grief button is hit all of the time.  Over time, the ball shrinks and only hits the button occasionally. The grief is still there, yet is not triggered as often as it was at first.

Ball Box Analogy

I found this quote on another website.

“Grief is never experienced the same way for any two people. But it helps to know that grief impacts most of us in a way where the pain is intense at the beginning, but the frequency (if not the intensity) of the pain lessens over time. Most of us walk through life, carrying our own box with a ball of grief inside of it. Remember that the next time you see someone, as they may be struggling with their own ball in the box.”

Ball Box Analogy #2

I have always said this about people, not in those words, just that when we see people having a hard day…we don’t know why…for all we know they may have just lost a pet, or a job, or even a son. We all cope with grief in different ways. If you see me in the store and notice that I look happy, I may be happy, yet sad at the same time.  Whether I look happy or sad, remember that I am struggling with my own ball in a box.

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Barking Dogs

8:21pm

In the past when the dogs would start barking at night…I would wonder if Dale was here.  He would show up unexpectedly.  A nice little surprise.  Sometimes not so nice, but most of the times nice.  Tonight when the dogs started barking my mind went immediately to Dale.  Oh wait, It can’t be Dale.  It will never again be Dale. Sigh.

 

12:09pm October 28, 2020

The last two days have been bad…ugly crying bad.  Today has been better.  Not great, but better.

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Plans

Someone asked me if I had any plans for the 1 month mark after Dale’s death.  Oh boy!  I had not even thought of that.  Since being asked that question about plans for something to mark one month, I have been giving it a lot of thought.   It is winter here where we live.  The ground is already covered in snow.  We won’t be able to put a grave marker on his grave until spring.  I want to do something for the winter months, to mark his grave.  I want to be able to see where he is, from the road.  I think I will put those bent rods that hold hanging flower baskets.  I have seen others at the cemetery so I know they are allowed there.  I won’t be able to hang flower baskets with real flowers, but maybe I can place other items.  At least his grave will be marked and I will be able to find it. That thought brings me some comfort.  Now that I have thought of this, I don’t want to wait until the one month mark.  I want to do it right away.

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Remember Dale

Here is what has been on my heart…what if I can’t remember? What if, as the years pass, I can’t remember Dale.  I can no longer remember what he looked like.  What he smelled like.  How he would hug me.  What if I can’t remember?  I do not want to forget.  As the years pass will I remember Dale?  That thought grieves me to no end.  As I sit here typing this I cry, lots and lots of tears.  Will I remember Dale?  Will I remember how generous he was?  Will I remember how he was always willing to lend a hand?  Will I remember that I always knew that if I called him, he would come.  Will I remember he was always there for me.  No matter how much he struggled in his own life, others always came first.  My last conversation with him he asked me how he could help others when he could not even help himself.  Yet he tried to help himself.  Even at the end, he was trying.  Dale was an alcoholic.  He went to treatment twice, yet the addiction would not loosen its grip on him.  Five days before he died, he stopped drinking.  Cold turkey.  His body could not handle it.  He checked himself into the hospital.  Suddenly things went bad.  That is what the doctor told me.  His heart could not  take it and it stopped.  They worked on Dale for a long time.  Yet his heart would not work on its own.  Dale never gave up, he kept trying.  I always want to remember how hard Dale tried.  How much he loved his family.  How much he loved his friends.  How much I loved him.  He once talked about dying.  I told him he could not die, I would be devastated.  I was right.  I am devastated.