Monday, June 09, 2008

Sixteen Days Ago

I woke up this morning, after having a few really good days, with those thoughts again of "what if", " We've all have those thoughts and it has usually been me who has said, "NO!" we are not going there but I have some real "What ifs" and though I know it is not healthy thinking or productive thinking, the question still haunts me. I had it all, I thought straight in my head until I visited my mother yesterday and she'd been to church and now she is questioning where his soul his because of the suicide. And I won't go there on this blog because everyone has their own beliefs and I have mine and I was at peace with mine but she is not. And I really can't take it from her.
I know she hurts badly, and my stepfather grieves in silence and he just doesn't talk and she needs someone to talk to and I think she is going to talk to a paster that she likes (not the one from her own church which is a whole other subject). I hope she will but the problem is I can't hear what conclusion she comes to because it will not be how I've accepted it, what brings me peace.
Sixteen Days ago I lost a part of my heart. Sixteen Days ago I became someone I don't really know too well yet but I know one thing, I am not worried about that sweet child's soul. He is safe and in peace and he is right where he should be and I don't need anyone to assure me of that.


Velvet Sacks said...

Robbin, I've been preoccupied lately with my own *issues* and haven't visited here in quite some time. Today I thought about you and popped over to read while I was taking a break at work. I must admit, I'm stunned to learn what you've been through in recent months.

I am so, so sorry about your son. You're facing one of my greatest fears (born of depression that runs in my own family), and I am deeply moved by your strength and grace in the face of such a loss.
I can't imagine any words I could say that would make this situation easier for you, but please know how much I care.

I had missed the news about your surgery, too. I hope you're healing well and that somehow, despite your grief, you're able to find the focus you need to take care of your own physical well-being.

I see your pain in the words you've written here, Robbin, but I also see glimmers of light, an appreciation of beauty and kindness, and a gentle willingness to accept things as they are until they become better. This is the attitude I've noticed and appreciated in your writing since I first discovered your blog. You inspire me with your strength of character. That being said, if there are days when you may not feel strong, days when putting one foot in front of the other seems like almost more than you can do, please allow yourself to lean on others for a bit. I'm glad Matthew has been there for you.

I'm sending you hugs, my friend, and wishing you peace, one moment at a time.

Robbin with 2 B's! said...

Velvet, you'll never know how much your words here mean to me. Thank you so much. Today was probably the worse day I've had since the memorial service and I certainly don't feel I have any strength of character but you have to go on, I have to go on for my precious son and grand children. But today was BAD, and tonight your words comforted me more than I can tell you. I accept your hugs and the wish for peace, and that is just how I will take it, one moment at a time.

linda said...

I came for a visit today to see how you were...I have followed your path since learning of it from my sunday stroll several weeks heart goes out to you and you continue in my daughter suffers from mental illness and has had several suicide attempts....I can only shudder and imagine your path but realize it can happen to any of us, it's just that most do not realize that fact of life! may your days become lighter as time passes....

Robbin with 2 B's! said...

Thank you Linda, I feel I have a kindred spirit with people who love someone with mental illness. A mother should be able to protect her child, but unfortunately these special people dance to the beat of a different drummer and I couldn't take away his pain, even though I'd have gladly swapped my life for him to live a happy life. Thanks for sharing.