I have so many things I want to say that my thoughts get jumbled. I have post it notes and scraps of paper on my nightstand of things that run thru my mind that I know I want to share. I still feel like if I don't get them out on paper somehow I'm going to forget and I'll never get the memory back. I'll never understand the mind but I do have faith that even if I lose track of something I want to say, eventually it does resurface.
Something I've been meaning to state, but I don't know if you realize, is that I only speak for me. I NEVER discount Deanna, Bailey, Matt, my family or friends but the one thing I am sure of is that I can only talk to you on behalf of myself. I pray I never speak for the group. This blog is my selfish way of bragging about my son and everything that centers around him from my point of view. If ever I come across as something else I'm sorry. Jeremy told me a while ago not to speak for him, I try to respect that and hope I do. Sometimes I may forget but I'll try to only speak from my heart.
It was day two back to work for me. I feel as though I did pretty well. I seem to have my moments when I'm overwhelmed. Luckily there aren't too many coworkers in the office this week. I'm trying to re-acclimate myself to things that have happened since the first of December. I notice a huge difference in how my brain processes. It's sluggish and I don't like it. It's unlike me to look at contracts and files in an effort to organize them. I'm finding I need to ease into it. I had a few hundred e-mails to look at. I gave myself that one and only task yesterday. I had to delete anything that started with "My Condolences" or "Sorry for your loss"... I looked at the senders name but never read your note. I already know what you wanted to tell me. I'm sorry too... I logged your name in my brain to go along with all the people who have said the same thing to me. I truly feel your pain. I'm so thankful you reached out. I wish I was not in the position to get your mail. It stinks.
Someone was talking to me the other day and accidentally called Jeremy "Christopher" in conversation. He was so apologetic, feeling as though I'd be upset. That doesn't upset me. You don't need to worry about that. I love the name Christopher and I want to talk about him or hear that great name. You don't have to dance around speaking about him. It's only been three weeks but it doesn't matter if it’s three years or thirty years... What parent wouldn't want to blab on about their child??? I know I do. I love the stories and I love sharing mine.
I went to dinner last night at McGreivey's in Waterford. Ever hear of it? Amazing food, fabulous staff and a feel good atmosphere. I had a little trouble but I managed my way thru it. Christopher worked there. He washed dishes probably twelve hours a week. I felt tremendously sad but also proud he had a part-time job. He paid me for his car insurance with his paycheck. That was the deal if he planned to own a vehicle. I used to go visit on nights he worked and he would come out to see me - of course once my food was on the table so he could sample it. Smart boy... He would be a sweaty mess and I'd joke with him to get back to work because the patrons would be grossed out. It was so hot back by the commercial dishwasher he would be dripping. He typically brought a second tee shirt since he'd soak the first. The staff had fun with him too. They're a family. Tonight they all came over to visit and share stories. This was his first "real" job working at a business. It was fast paced on the weekends and he would come home exhausted.
I felt like he was in the kitchen as I ate and I kept waiting for him to come see what I ordered and stick his chubby fingers into my plate to have a taste. Last night he didn't do it... or not that I noticed anyway. There was nothing missing from my dinner plate. That was a shame. Another night where I didn't get to roll my eyes at him or tell him he has bad manners with a smile on my face. I wish I could.
There are long portions of my day where I feel I'm fully aware that Chris is gone. Then I have fleeting moments when I completely forget and then I find myself spiraling backward, reeling because it just can't be true. I feel as though I don't know what I'll do. I don't like struggling. I don't like this new "me" of sorts. I'm not used to feeling out of control, even if it is brief. I don't like anything about it. I don't want it nor do I wish it on anyone. It's terrible, so irrational and an unusual a feeling. I want my November 30th life, the one where I worried about how to pay for college and hoped for a scholarship for Chris to help offset the costs of two going to school. I want that back. That's a great worry in comparison to the worries I carry now.
Thankfully I know that my moments of struggle will subside. I like to listen to Joel Osteen. Do you know that name?
Check out his podcasts if you don't have a chance to watch him on TV on Sundays. He's very helpful when I can't carry the load God asks me to. He helps me out of the pity party I'm throwing for myself.
It seems you like to read what I say because for some reason I help you in your day. I can't be happy enough to hear that. I don't know what it is I do to make that happen but I'm thankful. I believe I'm just an ordinary person. I just seem to need to talk to you about the tragedy I'm experiencing. I've never written in my life. I'm not ever a real writer so far as I've ever known. I do like to share though - at least now since all this happened. Maybe I just don't know what to do with myself. In any event, I'm glad we have each other for a few minutes each day. I like hearing your notes back to me about your experiences too. I actually have been able to read more of your replies lately. I plan to back up to day one and go thru each blog. You'll hear from me eventually. I appreciate spending time and I'm overly grateful you're here.
Thank you for reading.