The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

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...

Instead of a single rose from you this year John, I had to search the internet and find “Cemetary flowers” for your grave. You see, son, the world has gone crazy and a pandemic has hit. I couldn’t go to Hobby Lobby and put together a long lasting bouquet for you, but had to order one online. They are beautiful, for fake flowers, and they remind me of the times you brought me a single rose. Or wrote me a note. I miss you. This is an article I wrote my first Mother’s Day, (2018) but never published. Two years later and a lot of editing down to a “kinder gentler” article, and I submitted it to Still Standing.  Here is an excerpt: {“You know what the day is going to bring. Mom posts will abound. Happy families, tributes and photos of flowers and gifts, and an occasional post about a mom who is a little disappointed in her day.  She had high expectations for what she thought her day should look like, and somehow her children came up short. Try not to comment, or ...

DAY 847 Dear John, Dad and I went to Israel.  You would have loved it.  You would have wanted to stay and join their Army.  They looked sharp in their uniform!   I know people think there is so much danger and unrest, at least us here in the US, but it’s not like everyone thinks. We are all guilty of a lot of assumptions as to what a place is really like.  Weird, really, when you’ve never experienced it for yourself, and it’s all based on the opinions of others and the media.  I felt that way before I went to New York – and it wasn’t at all what I thought it would be.  It’s like anywhere else with people, sites, food, and daily life.  How different would life be if we could all see the truth without all the haze that blinds us? Anyway, I wanted to tell you, John, that I have a whole new appreciation for Mary.  When we visited the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and stood in front of Mary’s statue, there is a sword plunged deep into her h...

The memories that Facebook and Timehop present each morning can bring an unexpected smile, or trigger your grief so profoundly it's paralyzing. Today they brought a smile. And then writing this brought an onslaught of tears . . . We took a family trip in 2012 to Hawaii.  Today as I went through those photos, it reminded me just how funny our kids are.  Together they were quite a show.  It made me reflect on my daughter's journey, her loss, and how often times siblings are forgotten in the process.   On this particular trip, the two of them were sitting on a driftwood bench together, posing for a photo - that I'm so glad I insisted upon - when an elderly gentleman approached and told them what a cute couple they make.  Of course, that delighted John and mortified Kate.   You see John absolutely adored her.  He thought she was amazing.  John was also a snuggler and would gladly squeeze her to pieces.  She wasn't at the stage of...

On the second anniversary of our son’s death, my friend Ronna came by to see us. She shared with me a vision she had of John. It went like this: "I saw the best picture of John. He had a glorious twinkle in his eyes, and he leaned in and said 'Mom, I’m doing so great!' The peace on his face and in his voice are indescribable." As she relayed this vision of John to me, her eyes welled up with tears, but the joy she exuded was palpable. She told me she could still see his face so clearly and she just couldn’t describe it fully – the joy.  This is not the first vision to come from Ronna and her husband David.  I also wrote about David's word regarding our little Davey Sue coming into the world, and he also saw our son being greeted in Heaven by a family friend who lost his life in a private plane crash. At the same time, I received a Facebook message from Allison. She felt led to contact me about a company from South Dakota called Rebekah Sco...

Such a great memory - surrounded by two of his favorite girls. As I woke up this morning, complete with all its horrible memories, I had a thought.  When John was about six, we lost him at Camp Snoopy in the Mall of America on New Year's Eve for a brief moment. He and a friend came off of a ride on the opposite side we were expecting, and for those moments, we had no idea where he was. Do you know that feeling? Absolute terror? Adrenaline kicking in, panic overwhelms you and you start frantically searching? Well, his death is similar in feeling, only it’s about a million times worse and it lasts all day every day. You spend the rest of your life managing those horrific thoughts and that incessant feeling of panic. Where is he? Only you can't find him. Anyway, John Ryan would be 26 now - and I thought, why not share 26 ways to remember him or get to know him today.  Feel free to add anything you think he would have loved. We so enjoy hearing about him t...

   What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!  What does that even mean?   Quora says that the phrase or cliché “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, was originally penned by the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, in his book Twilight and Arrows, and it was used as a motto for Hitler’s Nazi youth camps .  He wrote a similar line in a later book entitled Ecce Homo,  just before he went completely insane.   Umm, that's not a motto I want to adopt.  Furthermore . . .  In our case, John's  trauma did kill him.  His pain did not make him stronger.  In fact, it was more than he could bear and it led, eventually, to his accidental overdose. So I guess he wasn't  strong enough , huh?    And now, his trauma has become our trauma.  His pain will forever be our pain.  His death has become our instant replay.  His death is what we try to keep held tightly behind our walls.  His...