The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

You left us at 24, and today you'd be 32.  It's hard to wrap my head around that.  I guess you'll always be 24 - but down here, I'm watching your friends get older.  Get married.  Have children.  Get divorced, a nd in some cases, keep struggling.   I have some peace knowing your struggle is over.  If you were still fighting the same demons I don't know where that would have left either one of us or the family.  It was the hardest thing I've dealt with, other than your death, and I feel like we have dealt with a lot.  But, to watch your child be controlled by a substance, one that changes who they are, takes over their life, their thoughts, their minute-by-minute - it's the most helpless feeling I've ever had.  I couldn't fix it.  So, in one very small way, it helps . . .helps to know you are safe, in Heaven, with Jesus, and we will see you again.   Thank you for making that decision and for keeping your faith, even though you w...

John - JRTC at FT Polk Words and more words.  I can't tell you how many posts I've written lately and haven't published, or I deleted them altogether.   I submitted a couple to grief sites, just because I'm drowning in them. Usually writing helps me process, but life has been unusually dark lately and nothing that's coming off the keyboard feels quite right.   Don't worry, I didn't send in the super sarcastic ones, with titles such as:  Leper, Snarky Grief, and I Wish I Couldn't Imagine, they are still in the draft file. They are TMI and word vomit.  I read one to my husband the other day -  he cautioned me not to share it.  😳There are too many words and at the same time not enough words.  Not enough of the right words.  No words to take the pain of losing John away. I found this picture of him in his iCloud.  Unfortunately, when the police released his phone, it wouldn't work anymore.  I had gone through it previously, ...

I've spent the last year trying to explain how it feels to lose a child.  How it feels to have a child who is addicted to opioids.  I've fought for John.  Explained what happened to John.  Went to the court hearings.  I've gone to the Town Hall Meetings on the Opioid Crisis.  I've endured the "helpful" remarks, the awkward conversations, the odd looks, the whispers.  I've defended those who have become dependent on opioids and I've defended John - what happened, the process, the horrible outcome.  But for what?  Honestly, does it even matter?   John matters , but does all this writing matter?  Does it make a difference? Because it's not easy.  Not easy to let people into this terrible time - this terrible loss.  Certainly not for novelty or curiosity. Maybe the awkward lady was right when she blurted out "Life Goes On!"  I guess for the world it does go on. And for the rest of us, it stopped that day and we...