What to say.....?

I don't know what to say, so I'll just blurt out what's on my mind....

On Sunday night, I started this rosy post about how lucky I am to have a wonderful Husband who provides for us so well, for having a smart Son who usually makes good decisions, for my Son being able to play a Jr. football halftime scrimmage years ago on Ford Field during a Lions pre-season game, I was going to write about how we've done things we consider normal that are part of people's bucket lists.  We've seen NHL, NFL and MLB games....the tickets were either free or low in price.  I took it for granted that everyone must have been to a pro game.  We aren't even sports fans.  We enjoy a game when we go, but don't seek them out.  What brought all this on was my Husband feeling too bad to go the Lion's game someone gave him tickets for.  I told the ladies at work (I had to put in a few hours on Sunday) that he was deciding not to go and planning to give the tickets away.  All of them said that was on their bucket list.  We've been to New Zealand, most of the 50 states and to a few provinces in Canada. There are some people I know who've never even been on an airplane, or seen a metropolis. It hit me then that we are blessed.  We have lived a lot of people's dreams.   I worry and fret about money, we struggle to make ends meet and have a tad of overlap.  We are like everyone else.

On Monday I sent my Husband a text telling him I love him, thanking him for being a great provider, keeping us safe and despite our mutual mediocre parenting that he is a great Father and that our Son was lucky to have him and so am I.  Monday I nagged my son in texts but failed to say I love you in any of them because his friends read them sometimes.  Today...I don't care. I will tell him I love him in texts because of Tuesday.

On Tuesday my "Pollyanna" outlook died. My Son sent me one of the worst texts I've ever gotten.  He told me to contact my friend "Lucy"  because her son "Will" committed suicide on Monday.  I thought it was a macabre game that Will was playing with his friends, it being so close to Halloween and all.  I went to my friend's facebook page.  It was horrible and ugly because it was true.

I sent her a text, she responded with thanks.

Will is my son's age, they spent time together as three of us Mom's yapped after school when we went to pick them up.  They rough housed with each other, Will, his little brother, my Son and another friend's son.  Will and my Son were in one class together.  That was enough for the poor teachers at their middle school.  The boys moved on to HS and we Mom's didn't hang out waiting for them anymore, they had after-school activities.  In other words we drifted and I am filled with "I meant to's".

Thursday we went to his viewing.  It was gut wrenching.  To look upon the face of a young man I had known, who was friends with my son was terrible. Will was all over the room.  Photos of Will as a baby, him in his various activities, him growing up, his family, his brother, his baby book, photo albums. his baby shoes and at the foot of the coffin, his empty hunting boots.  Lucy was holding up as well as she could.  I've never seen Lucy not be Lucy, but her spark was gone.  Will's brother is filled with hate.  He blames Lucy for it all.  I know he has to blame someone.  I know in time he will blame Will and be angry with him, but it's much too soon for that.  He's lost his courage.  Will was the "devil may care...push the limits" guy and his brother is a reserved methodical person.  Will was a helium balloon whereas his brother was his tether.  They were good for each other.

Friday, we went to the funeral.  We were there in time to get seats.  It filled up two chapels, standing room only.  I heard Lucy break and I saw Will's brother break.  Neither one went to the other.  Lucy has lost both son's for all intents and purposes.  Time will heal part of this, but not all of it.  Nothing will ever heal all of it.  The ceremony honored Will's life.  My Son sat with me and let me hold his hand a lot.

I seem to be crying at the drop of a hat.  I am so sad the family is so fractured.  I know they need each other to heal but they may never truly come together to support one another.  The parents are divorced and remarried.  The divorce was over 10 years ago and remarriages happened at least 10 years ago, so it wasn't a catalyst.  No one, aside from Will, truly knows why he felt this was the best or only option.

People often turn to God only in times of need or despair.  I pray when I think of a person.  I thank him when I look around at my life and the people I know.  We don't go to church but we do believe, we are saved, our Son is dedicated and is currently questioning and searching like most teens.  I keep hearing God heals all wounds.  I believe that he does, but only if the people are willing to accept that guidance and help.  When deep wounds heal the scar tissue is always tender for a very long time and can easily tear.  When people are trying to heal it seems they tend to tear at the scab or the new skin to rehash and open healing wounds.  I've seen it and I've lived it.  Very few people can seek and accept that healing guidance and move forward with a small scar, I failed that test.  There won't be any small scar with this wound, this is a gaping hole.

I am thankful for so much, my Husband, my life, our pets, but most of all my Son.  I just want to hold him and never let him go.

If anyone reading this has a teenager in their lives, make time for them.  Even when they are behaving like idiots, driving you to drink, causing you worry and fear, make time for them and think of how much you love about them.  Tell them.  If, by chance, a teenager is reading this.  Know that no matter how insignificant and unloved you feel, you aren't.  I don't care who you are, or what you've done.  Someone cares very deeply for you.  You've sent out ripples that will impact people you don't even know.  When people tease you, make fun of you, tear you down and try to ruin your reputation, remember, it's only a few years.  You just have to make it to college, you just have to hold on until then.

Get help.  I know teens won't rat on each other, I know that parents can't fight those battles like we did in elementary school.  It kills us to watch you hurting inside.  We, as parents and former teens, want to help.  If you can't turn to your parents, go to a teacher you like and just talk.  Let it out.  Don't hold on to the crap people say and do.  Know that they have more serious problems than you do.  They hurt people because they are mean, spiteful, rude kids who never learned a lesson on life.  Trust in fate and know that what they dish out will come back on them, it may take years, but they will get exactly what they've dished out somehow.

 If your parents or a person in charge (teacher, principal) is hurting you emotionally or physically, call a teen helpline, go to a shelter, turn to a friend's parents or a trusted Teacher or Preacher.  Help yourself with their guidance.  Live for yourself.  Live to spite them if that's what motivates you.  There are better ways to get revenge on a person (even a parent who's hurt you), revenge is moving on, not having them in your life by your choice then living the best life you can, the life that makes you happy, the life that allows you to reach your dreams.

High school is hard!  The idiot who said "these are the best years of your life" was a delusional maniac.  They are only good because you have no bills to pay and you don't have to support yourself financially.  These are some of the worst years you will ever have.  Years sound like forever to teenagers, take it hour by hour, day by day. All you have to do is take it one step at a time, one day at a time.  I have felt unloved, I've been the joke at school, I've been the weirdo.  I chose to act and dress the way I did because that way I controlled what they made fun of.  I never let them in far enough to find out what my real problems were.  Put up a mask if you have to, in order to protect yourself.  If you have one good friend who knows you, the real you, then you are truly blessed.  Very few people keep in touch after high school.  When high school is over your real life starts.  There is a light at the end of the dark tunnel and it won't always be a train.  Sometimes it's just the end of the tunnel where the world opens up. You just have to get through that tunnel.

If you made it to the end of this entry....kudos because it was long and very personal.

Carmex in the Silverado

The smell of Carmex on a chill day in a car slices away the years.  Once again it's night, there's a meteor shower, I'm in the middle and she's gone.  It's all gone.  Nothing matters and nothing is real. I smell the cool air, I smell the Carmex, I can almost hear the radio. 
I feel the time roll back like a tide.  It reveals hidden things, forgotten things, things just under the surface, or lost in buried layers like sand.  Things just waiting to be washed ashore and brought to life again. 
My life was behind me and before me at the same time.  The road like a tether connecting my past and my future.  All I had left was in my heart, mind and the bed of a Silverado.  But nothing was real and nothing mattered. 
The numbness and the hollowness were pervading.  I was a walking shell and a shadow of myself.  I was me less than a week before, then I was nothing and no one. When I smelled the Carmex, I realized I was new.  I had never heard of Carmex before.  It was the first new thing in my new life. 
I walk the beach of memories just to see what the tide brings in.  I find ugly things, regrettable things, things I want to throw back and beautiful things.
I was reborn in a truck on a cold December night, during a meteor shower, to the sound of country music and the smell of Carmex.

Here we go again

Apparently I've always worked through difficult things with words, numbers,
pen, pencil, paper; I'm not sure why it seems so different now. Perhaps it's
because this is the first time i've ever done it publicly.

I found an old notebook the other day. I started it just prior to my Grandma
[Mom's] death. For those of you reading this unaware, my Grandparents
adopted me. My Grandfather passed away when I was 5...my Grandma when I was
15. It effectively left me an orphan. I had to move in with my Mom. I also found her body and had to notify people. I remember bits and pieces. Fragments float around in my
head. Finding that note book made me wonder what I was doing. How I had
changed...who was I then. I wondered if I would read it and recognize the
girl behind it. It was like a flood. I saw her, I heard her, but I saw the
pain and isolation from new perspective... that of a Mother, a friend, a
pain fired "grown up?". I could remember the emotions...I could hear the
echos of songs, friends, things long past. I may have grown, yet I am
today's confused child of tomorrow.

I know that I know nothing at all. I will never have a road map and today's
struggles are tomorrow's solutions. It's definitely humbling to know that I
have absolutely no clue about anything....so I will continue to write about
nothing because tomorrow when I read it, I will be astonished at the
ignorance or amazed at the insight.

If I spelled it wrong...my hands are
screwy...I won't be hard on myself