Today I can barely breath. In fact, every breath I’m taking is exhailed with an attempt to de-stress myself. I’m worried constantly that I won’t be able to do all the big girl things I have to do. I’ve had big girl pants on before. Somehow this feels different. I’m scared and excited at the same time about life. Can you help me through this? Can you spiritually help me? Let me know it’s all going to be okay.

Dad, I miss you so much. You passed away 3 weeks ago. I have listened to your voice mails on my phone over and over. I can’t believe you’re gone. You were my biggest supporter and my hero. I thought you would be around for my grandchildren. It’s not fair for you or my kids. Dylan misses you so much at 8 years old. He is so sad that it breaks heart. Please know how much I admired you for your service to our country, the boy scouts, and the Sheriffs Department. I can’t name another individual who had so much service to their community as you did. I can only hope to be half the person you were. I love you and miss you so much!!

I know you were in a lot of pain because of all the trauma you suffered throughout your life. I know you drank and took pills to ease the pain. I’m still do angry at you for doing this to us. How could you? I know you weren’t in your right mind when you did it, but it was so selfish. Did you even think about us when you did it? Did you think we would be better off? I did everything I could to show you my love, to try to help you, yet I still feel guilty, thinking about what else I could have done. You always let your anger get the best of you. When you were sober you were a great, loving, funny, caring mom. When you drank it was the opposite. I hate that the last time I saw you we were fighting. You never even tried to get help. I feel like you didn’t care enough about us to even try to get sober. All I want in this life is to be “normal”, to function, to be happy. But I keep getting hurdles thrown at me. I told you all the time how worried I was about you. I guess it went in one ear and out the other. I feel so angry, sad, guilty. I don’t know what is to come and I’m so scared. Our relationship was complicated but when you were sober I could always come to you and talk. You put me through hell with your addictions and anger, and now you’re putting me through hell with your death. I pray that I’ll somehow get through this.

Mom,  I miss you so much. It hurts. I keep telling myself that I was lucky to have a good Mom growing up and there are people out there who didn’t. I keep telling myself that you were able to be in Sophia’s life for her first three years of life and there are people out there whose parents never lived long enough to meet their grandchildren.   Despite counting my blessings, I still find myself overwhelmed with grief. I keep telling myself that you are no longer in pain and you are now at a peaceful place, but my selfishness takes over and wishes you were still here. You defeated the odds so many times over and over that I can’t believe that you lost this time around. I can’t stop crying at times. I went back to work today…a week and a half after you passed and I feel like I am out of my body just going through the motions. I love you, I thank you , and miss you.

it’s been… I’m not sure how many days. I miss you dad. im here not sure where I’m going to live with a baby on the way. did my pregnancy stress you out ? or did you finally know I was gonna be okay. it’s not fair grown people have parents die and it devastates them. I’m only 19 for gods sake. why did you have to be so sick for so long? I understand why you gave up your fight but dammit I miss you I think about you all the time. we were so close and I don’t fit in with mom. I’ve always been Like you and now I’m all alone. I have drew but he doesn’t understand Like you would. I love you dad I miss you so much

Words cannot begin to describe the emptiness inside me, you were the perfect mother, the faithful wife.

You were the best person I have ever known, nothing is fair, tell me why (HE?) took your life

If God is real he is cruel, indifferent and cold. It seems like he took my whole world in an instant.

I can’t even begin to find the words to describe my pain, yet I try time and time again.

These words are worthless, catharsis is deceiving, feeling are revealed but emptiness prevails.

So I remain stoic, unaffected on the outside- yet dying inside. I Will carry this every day of my life

I have become everything she hated I feel, What could have been if she lived? Would she even recognize me anymore?

That is the saddest thought of them all- I have been alive longer without my mother than I have been with her, would we just be like strangers passing on the street?

All of my accomplishments will always be bittersweet, oh what I would give to be young again. To come home brimming with excitement ready to tell her my triumphs, and  my disappointments. To share life with her, to share SOMETHING with her. To love and be loved. But I will never share anything with her again.

I could never write these words sober, I would feel weak and pitiable. I never wanted people to feel sorry for me, they could never truly understand unless they have felt the emptiness. I never truly learned to cope as a man. I am petty, unpredictable and violent. The drink and drugs have came and went but the sadness remains.  I lash out, beat and bloody others to make me feel alive. But will I ever live? Certainly not the same, something was taken from me and I will never get it back.

What to do? I go through the motions, rise and fall with the sun but am never whole. Sometimes I think I forget, if only for a time. But you never truly forget. Every cigarrete pack I buy my moms picture stares up at me. She is there at my highs and lows, and I should be ashamed but I am not. Because she is gone..

I sometimes listen to her favorite songs and try to cry. The tears never come, at least not with sobriety.  But the memories do. I remember picking pumpkins with her as a child, laughing at her clutziness, and always believing that cancer would not take her. She was too special, too good, too pure.

I remember her withering away before my eyes. We laid on her bed and prayed the rosary. I was naive then. I thought God cared. I paced on my porch, 11 years old, crying my eyes out, pleading for her, still possessing hope. That Hope has left me, never to return in its unbridled form.  My father turned to God, I turned away. He is the strongest man I have ever known.

I remember the last hug I gave her while she was awake. She left for the hospital that day and I never saw her conscious again. She died in peace at my grandmothers house in a coma, they said she felt no pain, but I felt it in its most crippling and pure form. I cried over her but she couldn’t respond. There was no feeding tube, no hope. That is the day my world turned dark.