If you didnt know me, I could tell you that I miss my boy, and you wouldnt know where he has gone to. He has gone away. Many a Mothers son, goes away. To school, to work, to war. Some never come home.
I miss so many things on a daily basis that many take for granted, and I did too, and never will I take it for granted again. The mumble mouth "I love You Ma" most of all. Jamie said those words often, but always in a shy mumble, as if the MAN that he was wouldnt allow it in public. Yet he told me anyway. I miss those beater tee shirts that he couldnt wash properly making them dingy and causing he and I to squabble. How stupid is that? I miss so very much all of the different kinds of music he enjoys, much like his Mother. Almost daily he would share a new tune with me, then follow it up with a call for a MOM review:) . I could never put my finger on his favorite genre, and always smiled because many people think the same of me. We just love music.
Because he has gone away I will never fly him home again, or find family to get him out of a scrap. I wont be cooking with him, nor will I hear his raves when he sees me whipping up one of his favorite dishes. We wont be arguing over cars, speed, sand dunes, seatbelts or girls, and I'll miss that too. I'll wonder where my peacemaker is when a sibling is too full of themselves to share love, just for the sake of sharing. I 'll miss those tender talks we have for no reason at all about his plans for the future. A woman, a daughter, a home of his own, and his beloved dog at his side. I 'll miss watching the love pour out to his nephews and neices while he secretly prepared for his own flock. I will miss loving up that flock. I sometimes daydream about what they would look like, act like, and then I realize that I am only torturing myself.
I miss my boy. I miss the little guy who always wanted to do well, for me, his Dad, his teachers,his friends, his God. Those years cause the most pain. I miss the tears over his headgear and dental visits. His tender way with all animals, his gentile spirit. The incredible pride he had in being a boyscout, and the honesty in his eyes no matter the ordeal. Missing his eyes are too painful to speak of, as I see them in my minds eye at all times. I know too that his father must feel pain each time he looks in a mirror, for those eyes, are his. Sometimes In odd places, I hear him call my name.
In writing this, I discovered that I miss parts of me. The part that was he.
If you didnt know me, you wouldnt know that my son is gone forever. You would feel empathy for me, but to what degree? You wouldnt know that my son is really dead. His quarter of a life, ended, one year ago today. A senseless ending to a beautiful boy's life....and parts of every person he touched. I cant say goodbye enough, because it keeps happening like a groundhog day. I miss my son, and I always will.
I am forever determined to be OKAY. Jamie would want me that way. I am forever different. I see it, feel it, but I am still a happy me, and I deserve to be. How this is possible, I have no idea.
For today,the anniversary of the worst time in my life, everyone has given the advise of making a plan. So I made many. Busy mind, busy hands. There are many good things about to happen around here. I need to focus on this. I also want to speak to my son. Grunt.
Its important to say thank you to all of you who recognize, and are still going through the fire with me & mine. With all of my being, thank you so much for your calls, emails, snail mails, etc. Wrapped in the arms of much love, we're going to be OKAY.
A ROCK!
She wouldnt stand for the lil hat that matches her sweater, and the pom poms are noticibly working on her last nerve. She does however appreciate the sweater:) Thank God hair grows back. Happy Monday, dont let rainy days and Mondays get ya down:)
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