I thought this past weekend would never end. I was repeatedly reminded that it was Mother's Day weekend- commercials on TV, email ads, fliers in my snail mailbox and the numerous floral vans making deliveries in the neighborhood. I stayed away from Twitter to avoid seeing "Happy Mothers Day" tweets. Twitter isn't a good place to be when you're feeling raw and emotional. Trust me, when your child has recently died the last thing you want to hear is Happy Mother's Day. There's not a damn thing happy about it. I just wanted to dig a hole, climb in it and die. (No, I'm not suicidal. I would never do that to my husband. It's just a feeling but I would never act on it.)
It's horrid enough to lose a child in an accident or to an illness, it's even more complicated if your child died due to his own preventable actions. Not only is there grief, but also an abundance of guilt, regrets, and anger. If only he had gotten off of drugs, if only he had stayed on a treatment plan for his mental illness and addictions, if only he hadn't hooked up with other drug users, if only I had been a better mother, if only his father hadn't abandoned him at the age of 3, if only I hadn't sent him away the last time he was here- all those if onlys played over and over again in my mind all weekend. Yes, I know it's futile to indulge in if onlys but sometimes you just can't stop your brain from wallowing in thoughts and memories.
I can't go back and undo anything, there are no do overs when it comes to parenting. All I can do now is try to keep my demons at bay and not wallow in my grief and regrets. So I need to spend my time doing things that bring me peace of mind- like playing in my studio, observing nature and being grateful for my husband who loves me no matter what. I have so much to be grateful for, even when my sadness prevents me from seeing it. I need to learn to enjoy and love what I have in my life, instead of drowning in grief for what I no longer have.
I spent some time last night watching the moon. A strong breeze made the palm trees sing as the moon peeked in and out from behind their fronds. If you've never listened to a tree sing as a breeze blows through the leaves, you must. Each tree has its own melody, and our Florida palm trees sing a much different tune than the oak and hickory trees that surrounded our home when we lived in IL.
I'll close this post with some photos I took of the moon last night...