This past weekend was spent travelling to a memorial tea for a friends mother, Rose. Each time word of a death reaches my ear I am griped in an almost physical hold so tight I can hardly get a clear breath. No matter the age or circumstances my heart breaks for those left behind.
While Jason was ill he asked me not to weep, saying it (his illness) was about him, not me. He asked me to keep a clear head so I could be cheerful and offer support and speak of him as a man who would live forever. And I did and in my heart he will be with me forever. Well now his departure from my life is definitely all about me.
Each of us who grieve for him hold our grief as separate and personal to us alone. We are in one big house called grief; separated by the walls of the rooms we are in. We hear each other grieve and the walls we have erected prevent reaching out enough to touch or lend comfort to one another. Our pain is our own and moving beyond it to find joy, that is the challenge. Doing all the things that once brought smiles and quilt free pleasure. Taking a step, moving in a forward motion, making a start and Getting past go…
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. My son Jason, age 41, died on August 30 2011. On February 2, 2011 he called to say he had been admitted to hospital the night before and now he was 30 minutes away from a routine surgery. At the time we lived 5 hours away by car and it was 3:15 in the afternoon on a icy winter day. Knowing no surgery is routine I was packed, in my car and on the road by 3:30. Braving it through the mountains I drove in the dark struggling with poor visibility and falling snow …. When I arrived at the hospital Jason was still in surgery which was surprising. His wife was nowhere to be seen and I could not reach her on the phone so I just waited around feeling happy and excited that I’d see my “adult” child for an unexpected visit. My elation was short lived however. Jason was wheeled out of recovery and he was upgraded to a private room. He was quite groggy and wondered where his wife was so we called her cell from his cell phone and she asked me to meet her in the waiting room, which I did. The first thing she did was throw her arms around me and say, she loved me which should have alerted me to bad news because she had never said she loved me and had never been an affectionate person toward me. Then she told me Jason was full of cancer. I actually thought she was lying to me. I was in shock and couldn’t grasp what she was saying and why she was even saying it. My own life, as I knew it was over and the months to come will always be remembered as some of the best Jason and I have shared.