Enter the Cuckoo's Nest

Well, it's hit me; At least it seems that way. I could do it today, I could leave this place and never return and never miss it. All I want is my son. All I want is to see him, to hear him, to put my arms around him and hold him tight, to tell him that I love him, that I'm proud of him.

Do you know what it's like to want something so badly and at the same time know that you will never, ever have it? Nothing you do, no matter how hard you strive, no matter the prayers, the begging and pleading, the good deeds or simply asking, it will never ever be. We go insane from things of this nature…I’ve seen it happen, I feel it in my soul. Enter the Cuckoo's Nest, my lair of nefarious thoughts and ill repose, replete with danger, fraught with fear and horrific dreams; no longer free to live this life, I fight to be.

I don’t want to be, not here, not now.

I’ve no future, I’ve no hope, I’ve no dreams, I’ve nothing, nothing at all…

Comments

Seeing God Where I am

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Carolyn A. Rose I've had the distinct privilege in life to have traveled to various places, some vastly different from my home, and some quite similar. Regardless of the magnitude of differences, I can always feel the uniqueness of the place. After a while, certainly I long for the familiar comfort of home... but I always return with a fuller heart and a more open mind. Then it's like a siren song calling me back to seek more, ask more, learn more and inwardly digest it to build me into a more understanding and compassionate being. In a class I am taking, we were posed this question: How have ...

God Moment

I was thinking of when I created this blog and named it.... Living with Loss, I knew I would have to live with this loss, but at that time I wasn't living, I was surviving. It was a goal of sorts… but also a mission to keep breathing. It is only now, over six years since the death of my son that I have begun to know how to live again. The sharpness of those first months and years have softened and the pangs of grief strike less frequently, though when they do they rage with vengeance. What a journey of emotion these past six and half years have been from overwhelming and consuming grief, disbelief and shock, depression and fear, finally acceptance and the incorporation of the loss into our lives. I remember in the first months after Wyatt's death, I would walk through the house and tell myself he had gone on a very long trip to a place far, far away. He was unable to contact me and I unable to contact him. I later learned counselors think this is a poor method for ...

That Dust again...

The death of an only child leaves an indelible mark on the soul. There is a vacant place in living that is never filled, never eased. I know that now; if I live to be 110, it will be true then. When your only child dies it's one thing, when your only child dies before he had children of his own, it's another thing. I'm not saying any loss of a child is greater than another; on the contrary, they all come with unique challenges. It's just that that when life prances around shouting "look at me, look at me" with the young boy walking around the lake holding his mom's hand, grandma tucking her granddaughter in at night, graduation ceremonies and proms, tournaments, plays and recitals, weddings, new jobs, and babies, they all make it so painfully clear how my time with all of that is over. Stolen. With most things in this life we have a choice, but not this. This is not my choice. This is so different from something we choose, it's not what job to take or...

Living with Loss

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