I got the girls up and moving at 630am....After they left at 7, I decided to head back to bed. Penny was miffed she wasn't fed her breakfast...she didn't come cuddle with me.
I had been awake since 330am and I was so tired I ached. I couldn't fall asleep. I just lie there still and let my mind take me where it would. Memories and worries..but no tears. The phone rang at about 830am. It was Abby with "Family Services". She was sorry for the late notice but Zack was scheduled to see Dr. M this morning.....I cut her off. I said, "Abby....Zack passed away." Silence....she was stunned....and sad....disbelief. The questions... what happened? when? She expressed her sympathy and told me to take care of myself... if there was anything they could do for me or my family not to hesitate to ask. That gave me anxiety. She told me she was going to share the news...several people worked with and knew Zack.
About ten minutes after I got off the phone with Abby, Dr M called. I could hear in her voice how heartsick she was over this awful news. She asked me what happened...any signs of strange symptoms...anything at all out of the usual....details....She said she's never had this happen, and to a person so young. She wanted to gather any information, to help her cope, I think, and learn. She asked permission to contact the coroner's office. Yes. She also offered if there was anything she could do for my family to please let her know...she asked how we are doing. We are devastated. I told her this disease is SHIT...and what a terrific kid Zack was until he was struck down with this ugly mess and taken from us. I was tempted to tell her I need an appointment for meds for myself...I wanted to...but I didn't. I realize I must endure this despair now....my son died. I need to feel the sorrow in full force and not cheat myself or Zack of the horrid grief caused by his death. I have to absorb and feel the pain that goes with this horrendous situation...feel it, heal it, and go on with life.
Then a friend called...she lost her son two years ago to a hit and run driver. We cried together. She wanted to come and just sit with me and hug me. I told her no....I still crave my peace and solitude. But it felt good to talk....although now I'm concerned because even after two years she continues to sound destroyed.
My husband had made arrangements for Zack's car to be donated to the Salvation Army. They came and towed it away this morning. The finality of Zack being gone is becoming crushing. As I got dressed, I looked out my front bedroom window, expecting to see Zack sitting in the driver's seat, smoking, and chatting to that missing passenger....
I had written a card out to Zack's grade school and mailed it a couple days ago - he had a favorite fifth grade teacher and so many other people there that held importance to him. And I think they held him in a special place, also. I wanted them to know about his passing. The school social worker phoned me this morning...she was upset to hear the news. We have known each other for thirteen years. She knew Zack all that time because of his ADD and 504 plans and eventual IEPs....She talked me down off the edge of despair this morning and put some hope and a spark in my heart. We shared remembrances of Zack...and she told me she will always remember his smile and how funny and creative he was. Then she got mad with me about mental health care...and shocked by a few of the situations we experienced during the past few years. She shared that the number of mentally ill kids and adults she works with has grown...."Something is going on". And she said the homeless population here in town has grown...many are unwanted uncared for mentally ill people. She told me I write a beautiful letter and once I get past the worst I should get my pen and paper out. She said she always thought of me as an example of somebody who fought for her kids....That all made me feel good. Zack's life and death cannot be a pathetic waste. He was so absolutely wonderful until this disgusting disease.... Holding that fact in my heart..and my plan to do something to honor his memory is helping me cope today.
The mental health board never returned my call regarding my exhausted options.....
I had my nail appointment today. I wanted to cancel...but I forced myself to go. My regular manicurist was on vacation. Instead, a cute girl named Gaga did my nails. Gaga was bubbly and silly.... I wasn't feeling it, but I tried. I smiled with effort, and commented now and then. She was sweet and talkative. The subject of kids came up. I told her I have two daughters....it felt odd. This was the first time I realized.... when somebody asks me now, how many kids do I have... "I have two". Or do I say, "I had three, now I have two".... or "I have three"? Today I said "two" and didn't tear up. I was proud of that. One day I will be able to say "I have three" and if questions are asked, answers will be given.
People at the nail salon were also talking about headstones... and dates on headstones, and playing hide and seek in cemeteries.... I made my mind go numb and blank during that particular chatter.. and again I was proud that I didn't fall apart. However, I was more than ready to leave when my nails were done. Driving home from the nail salon I was in a foggy gloom. I saw a hearse coming toward me.....great. More death. Then I stopped at a traffic light. The car in front of me had the plates "HPYNES" on them. "Happiness". I let that lift my mood. I'm going to keep my eyes pealed for signs....signs for hope and possibilities...and signs that my Zack is loved and doing well.
Yesterday was tough....
My husband loaded up the car with Zack's clothes to donate to the Salvation Army. I am not sure what was in the big black Hefty bags. My husband packed them....We drove north. Past the "Family Services" building... past the hospital where I took Zack to the emergency room in June, past the road to Dr. K's office...all the while I was thinking about how I drove this route for months...with Zack sitting next to me...Zack not really with me....me hopeful. On the way home, the road dips down into a beautiful valley...I recalled all the daily trips back and forth to "Family Services"....Driving with the top off the Jeep under sunny blue skies in the August warmth - lush deep green trees lining the hilly road, then watching daily as those trees changed color with the approach of fall. I always made a mental note of how beautiful that valley is..It cheered me up to view the valley as I returned home after dropping my son off for his mental health help. Yesterday those trees were bleak and brown. I won't be driving that route any more.
Pulling into the garage I noticed our empty car smelled like Zack. That made me cry.
Lucy has a speech team event Saturday. The two of us had to run out and buy her "funeral clothes". That's what the teacher described the appropriate attire as. Funeral clothes. In the car, on the way, she let me know she made the teachers aware of her brother's passing.. They all understood her sorrow and told her that if she requires extra time for anything, she can have it. She also told me one of the teachers sought out a counselor to see if there was anything to be done for Lucy. Sadly, it turns out that particular counselor knew Zack...and adored him. The counselor didn't know Lucy, but she found her in the school and told her "I knew Zack. Could we chat for a few minutes?" They talked....Lucy divulged our tragedy and the private details. The woman cried....she said she loved Zack. She let Lucy know what a special guy she thought Zack was. She asked Lucy how she's managing and how she's able to attend school....Lucy told her, "Life doesn't stop". The woman told Lucy she is as mature as Zack was. I could see in Lucy's face, when she shared this story with me, that she took pride in that compliment....to be compared to her brother. I had to cover my face with my hands and sob, with the realization that everybody that knew him loved him....and he's gone.
In the shopping center parking lot, we ran into a dear friend of mine. She has known Zack for 13 years and was heartbroken by his death. Zack once saved her six year old daughter from drowning when she fell into the pool....they never forgot that. She had a gift for me in her car she had purchased just an hour before...could she give it to me? Another sign...a beautiful rustic stone and metal peace sign to place out near Zack. He would have loved it. She said she always thought of Zack as such a free spirit. She knew him. He was.
Reality and pain consumed me so deeply last night...after hearing about the counselor at the high school counselor's love for my son, noticing the scent of Zack in my car, and seeing Kristy and her just purchased peace sign gift for Zack's grave. I am grateful I had somebody to call...someone that could give me the promise and assurance that this horrendous pain will recede....When it fills me so tightly and I can barely breathe...it seems it will never pass...but I have hope now that it will.
We'll continue our trudge through this muck. It's been a week now...Last night I went to tuck Jojo in...She was sobbing in her bed. I crawled into bed with her and just held her and let her get it out...she admitted she just cannot believe he's dead.
I am dreading the phone call from the funeral home. The call to pick up Zack's ashes....We are waiting for the dark green marble box to be inscribed. I don't even remember what we requested it read.....but I am extremely apprehensive about picking it up....possession of the ashes begins a new sort of finality.
A friend posted this on my Facebook page today.... I love it...
To Be Continued.....
Zack was a fish...
He loved to swim and dive. He could get the highest bounce on that diving board
Hi Chan. I'm going to keep leaving comments...
ReplyDeleteI think, if you feel like medication would help take the edge off your grief, there's no harm in taking it. As I said to you before, I believe in the value of feeling our feelings, but I also believe that if you feel like the darkness is closing in, then medication is the right choice. Do what's right for you, of course.
It's not funny, but when people ask me how many siblings I have, I either say 3 or 4, depending on the situation. Nail salon with a new manicurist - I would've done exactly what you did, and it's been 28 years since my brother died. Not because I can't talk about it or because the grief is still sharp, but because I just wouldn't feel like getting into it. If a new friend asked the same question, I'd say something like "I have two sisters and two brothers, but one of my brothers died when I was a kid. Yes, it was terrible and sad, but we try to look on the positive side and I wouldn't have my youngest sister and brother if it hadn't happened." I explain, but I don't invite further conversation.
Thinking of you.