Tuesday, February 10, 2015


It's been 8 months since my son, Michael, died.  June 3, 2014.  See saw of emotion and lack of emotion.  I still find it overwhelming to do simple tasks and I want to stay in bed much longer.  I have laughed, and I have cried.  Reading about grief, hearing songs about death or even just a beautiful melody brings on the sorrow.

I have accepted his death..yet not really.  I question my faith and feel desperate to know for sure he's in Heaven.  I was not part of his life the last few years except messages I sent via facebook.  He rejected my friend requests and efforts to have a relationship.  He never stopped his feeling he referred to as apathy towards me.  Better anger than apathy.  Different times I'd run into him, like granddaughter's birthday parties and he'd allow a hug, a picture, but there was definately indifference on his part.  It hurt.  But losing him doesn't hurt any less because he did not return my love.  If anything it hurts more because of the unfinished business.  Oh how I worked toward a relationship.

Just spilling my guts as I've had a good cry and felt the need to write things down.

Until the next time