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.