Words for the Journey

August 7, 2012, my boy, Sam took his last breath. Two years have past and.... 

==============================To My Mommy And Daddy.==============================                                              

 I lost my kidHe should be hereI shout on rooftopsfor all to hearThey look at meAnd point and shrug

Don't you hear me knocking?I thought you were my friendI really want to talk to you,Please, please  let me in.   I tried calling you 

In an effort to spread word of the book, "Shannon's Gift," I joined a widow and widower support group on Facebook – sadly, it has 3,605 members, not including me. 

 Guilt is a relentless, soul-sucking monster. Hearts groan under “What if…” and “If only…” To say that we want things to be different is a gross understatement.

Even though it pains me to "re-live" this last phone call you ever made just hours before you passed, it is the best thing anyone could hope for when someone is suddenly ripped from them.  Jay, You passed away unexpectedly 9 years to the date of "US" 7/28/14.  

I wrote a blog today about my precocious toddler, a subject that’s always easy for me, and one where material is readily available. But despite a topic I adore, and a full post written, I just couldn’t get my mind off of loss. I felt affected by a melancholy sadness, and I couldn’t seem to fully pull my mind away from the fact.

23  months ago my “we” life ended and my “I” life began.

On the first anniversary of my husband Vic’s death, I slipped off my wedding ring and put it near his photo. The next morning, I put it back on. I wasn’t ready.

There are days that just drag on, and the day just doesn't seem to end. I find myself avoiding glancing at a clock, so that I don't have to keep track of how many more hours, Minutes or countless seconds are left in the day. 

 I think one of the most difficult things that we go through in this life is the quest to find reason for the events that make our life exactly what it is... Our life.