JOURNAL ENTRY November 2011
After having a daughter run away from all the chaos in our home and then losing a son to deadly heroin, I was bombarded with guilt. There were so many dark thoughts: if I would have done this or if I could have done that and not been a chicken shit, everything would have been different. I would still have a daughter who was talking to us instead of shutting us out of her life, and we’d even have a son who was alive.
I drove to school struggling to blink away the wall of tears; I could barely see the road. My mind would not be quiet. My brain kept replaying all my mistakes. I pulled into the school parking lot, unsure if I could even crawl out of my car. The car mirror told me I looked like shit. My eyes were red and puffy.
“I wish I could have guided you better,” a sigh of disappointment slipped from my lips.
“Mom, it wouldn’t have mattered, even if I didn’t get involved with drugs, I still would have died.” My dead son explained. “Would you feel any better if I would’ve been killed in a car crash?”
“No, but maybe you wouldn’t have suffered so much while growing up. And we wouldn’t have become so confused and upset with your behavior. The whole family morphed into other people.”
“Mom, I’m sorry but what happened, was supposed to happen. I made that choice before I was born and you made your choice to have me as a son. These conflicts had to occur for all of us, including Nicky for our souls to advance.”
“But why would you choose to be bi-polar? You were up and down like a yo-yo.”
“’Cuz it made me learn some lessons quicker. My soul needed to learn specific lessons faster because my soul knew my physical life on earth would be short.”
“What the hell lessons did you learn?”
“To accept myself, I learned I didn’t need my friends for approval. Also, I learned to work harder to get what I want. Determination definitely wasn’t something I was born with, remember? I always wanted to give up anytime something was hard.” I smiled and shook my head in remembrance. “Most of all, I finally accepted Dad and knew he loved me even though he lost his temper with some of the stupid decisions I made and the dangerous things I did.”
“You know, this sucks to the trillionth degree, don’t you?"
“I know, mom. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt any of you. I wish I could have listened and learned from my mistakes.” He paused a second. “You know, it’s not like I left you. You’re still stuck with me.”
I released a long sigh. “I just miss your physical self and your life experiences." I could feel that he had smiled. No, I don’t mean the car crashes and the drugs. I miss you talking about your friends, your dates, school and your future. Also, I've missed experiencing that with Nicole too, and that majorly hurts." My eyes well up with tears again. How in the heck am I going to teach today?
“Sometimes you and I talk more than we did when I was alive the last few years. As for Nicole, you’ll have that relationship with her like you had with me. Just be patient. I say that a lot to you, don’t I? Be patient. Maybe that’s another life lesson you have to learn, huh?”
I chuckle, “Yea, I’m not very good with that word, but I’ve come a long way with it." I sniffle and blow my nose on an antique handkerchief, something Nicole got me into instead of using Kleenex. "Love you. Have a super day.”
“You too, mom.”
I grabbed my computer and briefcase, looked in the mirror again. Well, my eyes look a little better. Oh, well, my students are used to this look. I slammed the car door. One of my students was already at my classroom door.
Ana asked, “Can I help you?”
“No, I’m okay.” I tried not to look at her, or she’d notice I was crying.
“We walked into the room, and I set my stuff down. Ana followed me to my desk.
“Ms. B., may I hug you? It sounds like you're having a Kyle day."
I shook my head, yes, fighting to keep my emotions at bay. I’m always amazed how loving and sensitive the students, faculty, and administration has been at Canoga High School since Kyle passed away. I felt her strong healing arms squeeze me. They seemed to give me strength.
“Have a good day, okay?” She chirped.
I nodded, smiled at her and thanked her and swallowed hard. I knew I would.
I knew my personal counselor would not be there for me every second I dipped into depression, but right now he was the one who’s been helping me keep it together, him and my therapist. Yes, I knew I’d have to give him a lot more freedom. And I knew I was selfish, but I couldn't help it. I understood in my heart that he has his own life up in the heavens, but I wasn't quite strong enough to let him go. Not yet.
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