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A Mother's Search for Her Son . . .

In the beginning there were two officers at my door. They were telling me my Joey had died in a sudden death accident early that morning. I explained to them that couldn't be as I rushed about the room collecting Joey's pictures and debate awards. Of course he's alive "see".

Somehow I made it through that first week, (how I don't know). My husband told me I rattled right off Joey's wishes to the Funeral Director. His memorial and celebration of Life was to be at home. I welcomed family and friends as they came into town; apparently I was functional.

The morning of the memorial I discovered my legs were noodles. I was able to dress and sit on my bed . . . I received many hugs, many tears on my shoulders, many "so so sorrys". I was told I appeared lost, but said little. In reality I was wondering why Joey wasn't here at his own party.

Later that day when all had left I stood and looked in the dresser mirror. I heard a voice, female voice speak clearly in my right ear, she said "wait a month". I sat back down and for the first time reilized I was in shock, my mind was a blur, my boy might be gone, how will I live? I have to find my son, however I need to wait a month.

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About the Author

An unusual occurrence happened in my life over the course of three years, three horrible years. My youngest son Joey, my Father, Mother, Uncle, Aunt, two cousins, my BFF Judy, my hermit friend Vern, and my little dog all died. I became a different person, in many ways, over those three years. Grief for my parents, relatives and friends seems to be going through proper stages and moving along; however grief for my son never quiets. It seems to live in my mind, body and soul, active and on the edge at all times. It is a wonder to me that I did not die with my son. It seems so cruel that parents suffer this pain; and then I think how cruel it would have been for my other three children if they had to mourn a brother and a mother. No, better I grieve the rest of my natural life than have them hurt any worse. Life goes on each day and I live it in moments, walking in both worlds, this one and the next. I seem to find my way ok, stumbling now and again but surviving. Writing and sharing helps me along my way, so thank you for reading this and sharing a bit of my story.

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