The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

 Dear John, I've wanted to let these words out for a while now, they've been burning inside my head, and at 1:38 a.m., they need to be set free.  I haven't been sleeping well.  Obviously.  The audible books and medication can't keep out the thoughts lately, and it seems that the window of 2:00 - 5:00 a.m. has become my nemesis.  I think the culmination of triggers lately has pushed my brain into a frenzied state and it's going wild at night.  The sadness, guilt, and frustration are at their peak in the wee hours and I am subject to their mercy. The current trigger, in addition to Grandpa's death, was being told I was "handling it well".  Handling the death of my father WELL??  Indeed, how does one handle death well?  Do you have any idea what that day was like?  Read on. I am assuming what was meant was I am handling it with a startling lack of emotion.  If they only knew.  Yes, outwardly I am going through the motions and ever...

Every year I go through the same thing.  I argue with myself for weeks about this day. Say something, don't say something.  Do something to commemorate it, hide in the house.  Share it, keep it to myself.  See if anyone remembers - don't be a jerk.  So five years of it, and I always end up here.  On the keyboard, dishing out my words.  I guess I need it.  When I logged into Blogger I was shocked to see that I had only blogged once since Year 4.  Sometimes I just post on my Facebook page - Portality Thoughts . . . I do a shorter version, but wow.  The blogging has really slowed down.   I think you get to a place where you just keep it inside.  After all, it's been literal years and it's not forefront on anyone else's mind (sans family).  And then I think, but this is my story.  My life living without him, and I remember how grateful I am that I documented it - because to be honest, grief can be a real memory stealer. ...

Dear John, Year 4. November 4. I miss you. That part doesn't change with days or months or years.  It's still a horrific hole in my heart.  I want to preface this post by saying these are my thoughts, what's been on my mind.  I'm not looking to argue or debate, I'm just sharing how I feel . . . The thoughts in my head have finally gotten to the place where they are keeping me up at night, and I miss sleeping. If I've been good at anything, it's sleeping. So this morning, I'm up before the sun to get these words out of my head, at least for a while. I always go back and read the "anniversary" posts so I remember what those years looked like. Year One:  Devastation.  Court. Utter sadness and disbelief.  Trying to understand and learn about addiction - Substance Use Disorder.  I shared your story hoping to educate others.  Well, the war on opioids is still raging, and it's worse. CoVid had not helped. The isolation has not helped. The dr...

The darkness clouds my mind, my heart, the very atmosphere I breathe, even on a beautiful sunny day.  The hole you've left, the black one, the void, it's always there.  I think that's the thing you can't comprehend.  Hearts are fragile, and when it comes to your children, and a breaking or rending, a tearing, such as this . . .well, how can that hole be filled with anything other than you?  For the part that is missing is you . I keep trying to learn about Substance Use Disorder {SUD} and how it affects the brain, the emotions, the life of its victim - and as I struggle to live without you, it becomes more and more clear how delicate the balances are.  When I took the free Harvard opioid class, I learned some things - but one really stuck with me.  The limbic system.   It's the part of the brain that controls emotions, pleasure, relaxation, and contentment.  Well, when those opioids hit that spot and the feeling washes over you - it...

Everywhere I go,  you are with me.  The memories of you, they either come along, or they meet me.   But they are always there.   I cannot escape them, nor do I want to.   I always want you with me, even if it hurts. I go to grab a coffee, you are there.   Iced Caramel Machiatto.   I go to the grocery store, you are there.   Hot sauce, cereal, Tostitos cheese dip.   Did you get chips?   Can you make that casserole? The one with the chicken and noodles, you know, my favorite?  Today I asked Alexa to turn on some music, background noise for the dog, and you are there. "I'm not alright, you're not alright . . .don't let me go". I wake up to a new message, a loss mom . . .she's struggling. Her son also overdosed, we share our stories, and you are there. I see you. You are so cold, so pale, so still.  In your Ole Miss long sleeve.  You're not breathing. You especially hang with me on Mondays. ...

An article I wrote for Her View From Home To the Grieving Mother: You Did Everything You Could Dear Mama  – I understand how hard this is for you, as much as one bereaved mother can relate to another. I know your walls are up and your heart is broken.  You’re doing your best to get through each day when you’d really just like to just lay down on their grave or crawl into the casket and die too.  The pain is unbelievable, unbearable, beyond description. This type of loss is a little different. You’ve lost a child, but you’ve lost him or her to a darkness that’s spreading across our land at an alarming rate. It’s consuming our children.  It’s a war.  An epidemic.  A plague. You’re living part of a horrible history in our country and frankly, you cannot believe this is your life.  You’ve asked why a thousand times.  You’ve gone over every detail trying to figure out if you coul...

When you are grieving, you learn to plan your days carefully and schedule down days. At least I do, and I am so thankful that my schedule allows it. I know, after these long 15 months, that I will need a couple recovery days after a fun event, a trip, or even a visit to our daughter's house. Don't misunderstand, we love going, it's the coming home that requires the adjustment. It starts as we prepare to leave, worsens on the drive, and hits home the minute we open the front door.   We needed a couple down days after our vacation as well. As restful as it was, we still had to come home. We purposefully drove to Indiana this year, instead of flying, to catch the plane for our seed trip.  It gave us time to process.   We saw new things, drove down new roads, visited new places, met new faces . . . and it was good. Y ou might remember last years blog, "A Grieving Introvert on a Plane Full of Strangers". Well, this year was filled with more glorious sunshine and...

Happy 26th Birthday, John Ryan😢 John, sharing his humor.  He always had us laughing. Today would be John's 26th birthday. So, I thought I would share some of the sentiments and stories about who John was to the people who knew him and/or loved him, or us. Mostly from the sentencing, but some sent in messages. Many of you have told me you've enjoyed getting to know John through my writing and I appreciated hearing who John was to so many of you - hearing your perspective. So here goes. Keep reading after that for an update on the plea agreement, sentencing, and victim impact statements from January 14th. Who was John to you? John was the Best-man in three weddings by the time he was 24 – and probably would have been the best man in several more, had time allowed.  I lost track of how many people said John was their best friend.  He was also a Godfather,  and loved by many dogs, all over the country. John was (it’s still difficult to use pa...