the sorrowful: 2015

Monday, December 28, 2015

I wish I had Faith

Faith would help.

Not only is my faith in shambles, I am cynical.

I want to believe. I need to believe. But I don't think I believe in anything anymore.

A New Post...

i guess due to google/blogger's annoying issues with adsense, i haven't written here in awhile. i'll share a post i wrote ELSEWHERE.....

https://wordpress.com/read/post/feed/36926556/893795453

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Originally posted on September 7 2014

In the darkness, I cannot help but think of you
My mind goes to that emptiness that now surrounds me
My heart aches with the knowledge that you are gone
The darkness emphasizes the moment of your death
And I cannot help wondering how I continue to breathe
Overwhelmingly sad doesn't begin to describe
The bitterness that envelops my sorrowful soul
Happiness seems to slip from my grasp
The absence of light pushes joy into anguish
The hand reaches for it, but the heart says no
There can be no glimmer in this bleak shadow

photograph, my property

Pondering Grief

Originally written Jan 20, 2014

As I sit in my bed in the wee hours of the morning, I'm thinking how I have spent nearly every night for the last 384 nights like this, wide awake.

Awake and heavy-eyed, I am pondering grief. Grief affects every person in a manner unique to themselves. My husband and I have grieved very differently from one another since losing our son a year ago.

He's very private; I'm very public.
He doesn't want to cry in front of the kids; I have cried many, many times in front of the kids.
He doesn't talk about his feelings with his friends; I want to talk about my feelings with my friends.
He feels the need to go to the cemetery often; I feel like I should go to the cemetery, but I don't really want to go.
He has turned to God because our son's death makes no sense; I have turned away from God because our son's death makes no sense.
He trusts God; I fear that I can no longer trust in anything.

We both miss him so much that it hurts. We have both felt like running away since Nolan's death. We both have aged probably five or ten years in the last year. We both have shed innumerable tears. We will both love our son until the end of time.

Friday, May 29, 2015

Two Years Ago (Originally Written on December 31, 2014)

Two years ago, December 30, 2012, I spent my last night ever with my thirteen year old son. We watched The Avengers. We hung out as a family. We had no idea what the next morning would bring.
Nolan said prayers with his dad before saying goodnight to me. He was tired. He kissed me goodnight and told me he loved me. I watched him walk down the hallway for the last time. The rest of us would stay up for another hour or maybe two before going to bed. It was Christmas break which meant late nights and no routine.
Over and over I imagine the what ifs. If only Nolan's heart had stopped beating while we were still up together, perhaps an ambulance could have arrived in time to save him. Instead his heart stopped sometime while he and the rest of us were asleep.

Friday, May 15, 2015

You Lived

This post was originally written on Bubblews by me on July 2, 2014

More words inspired by my son Nolan.

You Lived

You lived among the trees
You climbed, scaled, swung
You perched and watched

You lived among the birds
You studied, observed, listened
You fed, you knew

You lived among the woods
You hiked, tramped, camped
You sweated, you itched

You lived among the soccer fields
You ran, kicked, defended
You sprinted with reckless energy

You lived among the world of art
You sketched, painted, wrote
You created pieces of yourself

You lived among our family
You acted silly, laughed, smiled
You loved and you are loved always

Photo Credit: My own
+Poetry +Grief +Grieving

Conversations with Ella, July 22, 2014 Edition

This was originally published by me on Bubblews, July 2014.

This evening after divvying up the rest of the ice cream between the children, I held my three-year old daughter on my lap. We had the following conversation as she ate her vanilla ice cream.

Ella: Is it ok that we ate all of the ice cream?
Me: Sure! That's why I bought the big container because we have a big family.
Ella: There's six of us, right?
Me: No, there's seven.
Ella: But... One... Two...
Me (interrupting her): We have seven because we always include Nolan. Even if Nolan isn't eating ice cream with us, we have to count him.
Ella: Nolan IS eating ice cream! He's eating it in Heaven!
Me: You are right Ella, he is. What kinds of flavors do you think they have in Heaven?
Ella: The same as we have.

Photo Credit: My own
+Motherhood +Conversations-with-ella +Grief +Grieving-mother

With You, A Poem

This was originally posted on Bubblews in September of 2014.

If only I could be with you
I'd listen to you talk
I'd watch the way your eyes light up
I'd watch the way you walk

If only I could be with you
I'd listen to you play
Your fingers up and down the keys
Music speaks what you wish to say

If only I could be with you
I'd watch the way you move
Fancy footwork on the soccer field
You finally finding your groove

If only I could be with you
I'd watch the way you draw
I would soak in every picture
As I imagined what you saw

If only I could be with you
I'd feel the way you touch
I'd cherish every hug and kiss
I would love you so very much

Saturday, May 9, 2015

The Complexity of Grief

This was originally written on Bubblews by me on October 2014

Looking at photographs of you will make me cry
Looking at photographs of you can make me smile
Videos of you usually bring tears
I have anger at all times: sometimes simmering beneath the surface, other times exploding , often misdirected
I pray for a sign, yet I'm no longer sure if I have faith
I don't talk to you as much as I should, but I miss you more than is imaginable
Sometimes I push your memories away from me instead of immersing myself in them
The pain still feels physical after all of this time
As it nears two years without you, I continue to wonder how it can be true. I will even occasionally pinch or slap myself to try to wake from this nightmare
Losing my thirteen year old son unexpectedly in his sleep because his heart simply stopped is not something that I can just get over.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Birth of My Son

originally published on bubblews in December 2013

December.... Traditionally, December is my favorite time of year. It always has been. Not only is it Christmas, but it is my birthday. Then, along came Nolan in 1999 and even more reasons to love it. With 2010 came the birth of my daughter ella, so December has always been special to me.

My eldest child, Nolan, my first-born, had a due date of late January. As a first time pregnant mom, I worried very little. People are pregnant and give birth every day. So when I went into the doctor for my check-up on December 21, 1999, I had no fear. I had borderline high blood pressure the last couple weeks. However, I wasn't worried. When the doctor measured me and noted that I hadn't grown in 2 weeks, I was not worried. When she sent me over to have an ultrasound, I still felt no fear.

As the ultrasound techs started noting things and talking quietly, I began to think something might be wrong. I called my husband and said you might want to join me at the dr office. By the time he arrived, they told me "you are having a baby tonight"... They proceeded to tell us that our child looked to be only 2 pounds or so. He was approximately 6 weeks early. We were scared.

Around 10pm, the medical team started me on pitocen to try to start labor. After about an hour, they realized that my sweet child's heart rate was dropping every time there was a contraction. The consensus was that his small body could not handle labor. The decision was made to prep for a C-section. At this point, it was near midnight, it was near my birthday, my 30th birthday. As they prepared for delivering my first child, I realized it would be on my birthday.

Shortly after midnight, I heard my son's first cry. It was an amazing, scary sound. My husband and I both burst into tears. We were already in love with this child more than words could ever say.

He weighed in at 3 pounds 12 ounces. He was small, but healthy. He only stayed in the hospital for 9 days. They sent us home with our precious son on New Year's Eve 1999.

13 years later, New Year's Eve 2012, our son was dead in his bed from a virus to his heart.

13 years we had with this beautiful child.

13 years were not enough.

I miss him immensely.

I want him back

Monday, April 27, 2015

677 Days, A Poem

This was originally posted on Bubblews November 2014.

For nearly two years, I have risen from my bed
With such miserable thoughts inside my head
I have hoped without hope that it was just a dream
I have hoped without hope that life wasn't as it seemed

For nearly two years, life has seemed off-kilter
There's a knife in my spirit that hurts and bewilders
I have cried tears of anger, bitterness, and sorrow
I have cried knowing I won't see you tomorrow

For nearly two years, I have tried to distract
Wine, coffee, and movies haven't hidden the horrid fact
I have felt dead among the living
I have been false with the smiles I'm giving

For nearly two years, I have struggled to breathe
While inside my soul's agony seethes
I have despaired over fate's decision
I have looked at Faith with complete derision

For nearly two years, our five are now four
Oh how I wish for that one child more
I have watched my others with bittersweet joy
I have missed my sweet, precious boy

Sunday, April 19, 2015

My Son's Last Words to me

In life, we do not realize that it may be our last moment with someone. The unexpected often happens. The unexpected often means sadness, sorrow, and loss. Because the worst can happen at any given time, we should remember to show those we love that we love them.
We should hug our loved ones.
We should kiss our loved ones.
We should smile at our loved ones.
We should say those precious words, "I love you," to our loved ones.
My son's unexpected death was the absolute worst thing that could happen. He went to bed seemingly healthy, but died during the night from an unknown heart condition. He was thirteen.
The last words he said to me were, "I love you Mom," as he hugged me goodnight. Then he walked down the hallway to his bedroom and closed the door.
Although I have many regrets about how things happened with my son, the one thing I do hold onto is the fact that my last words to him were also, "I love you."
Tell the ones you love them. Period.
Photo credit: my own

originally published on Bubblews by me

Would I have Wanted Him to Suffer

Numerous thoughts permeate the mind of the grieving mother. Random thoughts. Warped thoughts. Angry thoughts. Sad thoughts. Questioning thoughts.
Would I have changed the way that he died if I had a choice?
Meaning this: not change the fact that he died. That's a given, of course. If I could do anything to bring him back, I would. If I could live my own life in a 4 X 4 cell eating nothing but bread and water knowing that he was alive and well, I would.
No, the question that goes through my mind is this one. Would I have rather known he was going to die so that I could have had the time to say goodbye?
In case you haven't read my posts about the loss of my son, he died completely unexpectedly in his sleep. We had no warning. He went to bed "healthy" and died sometime during the night. He was thirteen.
No chance to say goodbye.
No warning.
The trauma of finding him.
Would I have rather he had cancer? Would I have rather we went to the doctor and they said, "The outlook is grim." ? Would I have wanted him to suffer simply so I could have more time with him?
I have a friend who is watching her sweet two-year old suffer. He has brain cancer.
Yet, she has hope. There is still a chance for a miracle. There is still time to talk to her child. There is still time to hug her child, to love her child, to see a glimpse of his beautiful smile.
The morning my son died all hope died.
Selfishly, I would say I would want to have had a chance to try to save him. I would have wanted to say goodbye. Yet, no, I wouldn't want him to suffer. I remember seeing him cry tears of fear and pain when he was little getting an x-ray, getting a shot, feeling sick. But at least I could hug him and try to make him feel better.
Of course, this speculation is a moot point. My son is gone. And I had no choice in the matter.
Photo credit: my own
+Grief +Grieving-mother +Nolan

originally published on Bubblews 11/13/14

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Up in Smoke, a poem

My dreams of the future have gone up in smoke
Three brothers are now two
Three brothers that should have grown up together
Two brothers had to bury the other

Five rowdy siblings in a crowded house
Where space was limited
Yet love and laughter were abundant
Now there's more space and less laughter

Five high school graduations, college applications
Weddings and children and jobs
Brothers as best men, as godfathers
Years of always there for each other

I, in my old age, surrounded by my five children
And their husbands and wives and children
Content as I grow old
A heart swollen with love and pride

Instead my beloved child has died
My world has crumbled
My heart now has a gaping hole
My dreams of the future have gone up in smoke

photo credit: my own +Poetry +Jillybean1222-poetry +Grief +Grieving-mother

My Dad and my son

My dad is a wonderful grandfather. He loves each of his grandchildren dearly. I feel so blessed when I watch him with my children. He always had a special spot for Nolan. Oh, I am sure he has a special spot for each of the grandkids. But there was a special bond between him and my son. They would talk about coin collecting, play the piano together, talk about scouts, music, birds. It was beautiful.
When Nolan died, one of the hardest things I had to do was call my parents. How do you deliver such awful news over the phone? I opted to call my dad on his cell phone rather than my mom. I thought it would be "easier" for some reason. One of the many things from that horrific day that will forever be burned in my memory is telling my dad and hearing him scream "no!" then crying to my mom that Nolan was dead. Then she was screaming too. The agony in their voices was so immense.
My dad has always been a sort of poet. Every year he writes a Christmas poem in the family Christmas letter. He'll jot down other little rhymes here and there. After Nolan's death, he wrote a beautiful poem to honor Nolan. I'd like to share it with you. Not only will you read the love of grandfather for grandson, but you will also get a sense of who Nolan was.
Poem for Nolan
by Winston Johnson
When I see an eagle
In beautiful flight
A natural wonder
A natures delight,
I'll think of our Nolan
Who loved things so right.
And watching them soar,
With all of their might.
When I see a boy,
With a sly impish grin
And a trick deck of cards,
Or a tack or a pin,
I'll think of Nolan,
Who joked with his kin
And really, at times,
Was ornery as sin.
When I see a young man,
With a smile on his face.
Helping his mother,
With love and with grace.
I'll think of our Nolan,
With never one trace
Of bad in his heart -
Nor any disgrace.
When I hear a piano,
Swaying away.
To "Away in a Manger"
Asleep on the hay.
I'll think of our Nolan,
And our Christmas day -
The joy he would bring,
As he'd grin and he'd play.
When I'm on the prairie,
Out there alone -
No cars passing by,
No TV, No phone.
I'll think most of our Nolan.
In hills of Flint stone,
I'll bet he can hear me.
Out there in God's zone.
When I see a boy scout,
Show red, white, and blue
And make his folks proud
Of whatever he'll do,
I'll think of our Nolan
And how he just grew
To be a young man
So straight and so true.
Whenever I'm stuckin
The muck and the mire
And later I'm struggling
Right down to the wire.
I'll think of Nolan laughing
And I shall move higher
To a place warm as toast
Like a warm, cozy fire.
Photo Credit: My own
Poem Credit: with Permission, by my dad, Winston Johnson
+Grief +Grievingmother +Grieving-mother +Poetry

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

St Patrick's Day without You

sad days.... always sad days

here's a post from my other blog
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9898691-missing-him-a-little-extra-today

Saturday, February 21, 2015

a dream of you

I had the best dream last night. It was the sort of thing I have wished for every night since losing my precious thirteen-year old son, Nolan, just over two years ago. Dreams have a tendency to fade away. Therefore, I want to write it down before I forget it and the feelings it evoked in me.
I actually only remember about five to ten seconds of the dream, but they were a beautiful five to ten seconds.
The Dream
As I entered the unfamiliar room that was supposed to be my home, I noticed an image of Nolan on the window. The reflection illuminated for just a brief moment before fading away. I turned to my husband who was seated in a chair to ask if he had been holding a picture of Nolan. When he said no, I asked the children if they had to which they said no. Just then, in the corner of the room, Nolan appeared to be sitting. I saw him and happily said, "Nolan!" He jumped up with a huge smile and so much enthusiasm as he bounded across the room to me. He said, "Mom!" I felt so happy. He reached me and we hugged so tightly. He said something like "Finally," as though he had been waiting and waiting for me to notice his presence. As he grabbed my hand, I looked at the family to see if they saw him, which they did not. He slowly started to fade away. The last thing I felt was the pressure of his hand in mine. Although he was gone once more, I felt at peace knowing that he truly was always with me.
It was a beautiful dream.
Photo: mine +Grief +Grieving-mother +Nolan

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Jealousy is Ugly

yet another story being shared of a child who we are praying for who is getting better.

it's not that I don't want that child to get better.

I do.

I just don't understand why we couldn't get a miracle. I don't understand why we didn't even have a chance. My son died in his sleep with no warning. How the hell is that fair?

Sunday, February 8, 2015

I Love You Mom

here is a link to my other blog:

http://www.bubblews.com/news/9837907-my-son039s-last-words-to-me

Friday, January 23, 2015

A New Post

I haven't been writing on this site much because I am ticked off at Adsense. Anyway, here is a link to another page that I write.

http://www.cgpgallery.com/another-try/