It is that day. THAT day. I don't know what else to call it...it is The Day Before. The Day Before my life changed. The Day Before my normal wasn't normal any more. The Day Before I knew true grief. The Day before I found out how strong one person can be.
Four years ago tomorrow, my son died of a Heroin overdose. 4 years. ago.
I hate this week. Usually the whole month of August sucks. 4 years. So, this year, I've managed to get through most of the summer on a pretty good note...even knowing that The Terrible Terrible Day is coming. And that I cannot stop it.
Those of us who have been chosen to experience this in our lives...understand that the grief of losing a child never leaves you. We understand that we have to accept 'the new normal.' I kind of really hate that phrase...The New Normal. Mostly, because, nothing ever again will be...normal. Really. I mean, maybe other parents spend a considerable amount of time wondering how the rest of their children will die? wonder if we will have to live through this again? wonder why we have to continue on, even though we have no real reason? or are constantly looking for affirmations of their children in butterflies or coins on the sidewalk...Nope, I think those things are pretty much reserved for us. The grieving parents.
I have to say, I think, really...we all want one thing. Especially as the years pass by. We just don't want our child to be forgotten. Our society is good about remembering hero's or people who have accomplished much in their lives, those that have sacrificed on our behalf. My son didn't do any of those things really. But I will tell you what he did do, who he was...Joey had an easy smile, a big no-holds-barred smile, and charisma. Lots of charisma. He made friends easily and had a great sense of humor. He was a hard worker, and didn't mind getting dirty to finish a job. He was growing up to be a great man.
He made a fatal choice. At one point, my husband was surprised that I told people how he died. Am I embarrassed? of course I am. I am a mother...how does this not effect how I feel about myself? what kind of mother I was? what I could have done...more? In the end, I knew that it was his choice, not mine. Only this, helped my heart start to heal.
What have I learned over the last 4 years? life is hard, and sometimes it is totally unfair. But there is always hope. And there is certainly goodness...goodness of neighbors or friends who hurt because you hurt.
I dread and hate The Day Before. I wish The Terrible Terrible Day would never come. But it will. And after....there will always be another day, another week, another month....and I will continue to learn how to live this pseudo life.
