Crossroads

May 9, 2010 – It was Mother’s Day.  I had a visit with two of my 3 older boys that afternoon.  We had brought Naomi home 6 weeks earlier and were working through the adjustment and trying to find the new normal in our lives.  Our youngest son had just returned home from a trip to Oklahoma with a friend and prior to the trip had made the decision to move in with the friend and his roommates.  He was home for the weekend to see me for Mother’s Day and to pack up his things.  Late in the afternoon as he headed out the door he said, “I’ll be back later.”

May 10, 2010 – I was giving Naomi her bottle before her nap when someone rang the doorbell.  I went to the door to see a police officer and another gentleman at my door.  I opened the door and they introduced themselves.  It didn’t click at first when the gentleman introduced himself and I thought he had asked for Ben.  Then he repeated his name and said he was the county coroner.  My heart stopped.  I don’t know how I stayed standing, but their they stood telling me my son had died.  My baby boy was gone.  He was 21 years old.  He was trying to get his life together and now his life was over.  This is a parent’s worst nightmare and I was living it.   We were trying to find our new normal with Naomi in our lives and now we had to find a new normal without Ben in our lives.  I’ve tried to make sense of it many times over the last 2 years, but there is no way find sense in your child’s death.  A child’s death disrupts the normal balance of life.  He was supposed to outlive me, not the other way around.

For months I cried each and every day.  I wanted him back.  I still want him back, but the loss has and is becoming easier to bear.  No, my life will never be the same.  I will forever have a Ben-shaped hole in my heart.  The edges of the hole are no longer raw and in constant pain, but the hole is and will always be there.  The scars that are forming will forever cause moments of pain, but the pain is becoming easier to handle.

Recently I came across something someone wrote about their life after losing someone they loved.  It so eloquently describes these moments of pain.

“What I realized is that when you lose someone you love, you have to say goodbye to them not just at the moment they die but at every crossroads of your life and theirs. They are bound up into a thousand daily moments of your self, and you have to deal with the pain and confusion of losing them at each of those moments. Every act of the day, every near and distant spot on the road of your life that you formerly shared with them, in each of those times and places you have to give them up all over again.”  Author Unknown

May 9th and May 10th will forever be crossroads in my life.  They will forever remind me of the last day I saw Ben alive and the day I realized I would have to somehow say good-bye.  I’ll get through these days with a lot of tears and with each passing year I hope to also get thru these days with some smiles as I remember all the wonderful moments we shared together as mother and son.

I love you Ben and miss you so very much my beautiful baby boy!!!!

4 thoughts on “Crossroads

  1. Pingback: Tears and Memories « Burning Apathy

  2. Maya and I were just talking about Ben and his death 2 years ago. Aiy, I have no words of comfort. It is unimaginable to me. We miss him. We are thinking you all of you with love and compassion. and sadness.

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