A 'GOOD' death

A ‘GOOD’ death.

 

Death bothered me my whole life.   when my grandpa died when I was 17, I was depressed.   My grandma died just before the 911 attacks and I was depressed for like 2 years.    But in reality, I should have celebrated their lives and deaths.  I started taking a different view of the world, and how when people who have experienced ‘life’, marriage, children, grandchildren, GREAT grandchildren.   THEY had a GOOD death.   Sean’s grandpa died In the summer of 2011.   This was the first funeral I was at where I wasn’t at all sad, in fact, I was happy for  what he was able to experience in his life, he was in his 90’s when he died.   I remember walking away thinking, I have sure grown and I sure now ‘get it’, what life is all about.   I was so happy!

 

WHAM.   Zach dies in October.  

 

I TAKE IT ALL BACK.   I never should have grown, I should have never thought there was good deaths.  I feel I tempted the gods and they took my son.

 

I will never ever go to another funeral thinking it was a good death.   Zach’s death has shattered that growth for me.   no wonder I hate this world.

march 14, 2013

march 14, 2013 - 17 months

17 months away from my child
17 months since my child last breathed
17 months since my child last smiled
17 months......

and 17 months closer to FINALLY seeing my child again.

I get hope from other bereaved parents, who were at this point in their lives, 2 months ago, 2 years ago, 12 years ago, and they keep telling me, there is 'hope'.

I had posted this from a grief support group "How would your beloved one want you to live your remaining days? What would they whisper in your ear about why you're still here? Even as you grieve, know that life is to be lived. You will find a way to embrace life, with a hole in your heart, because that is what they would want."
An amazing friend of mine who lost a child years ago wrote on my fb wall to respond to the posting above, i hope this is okay i'm reposting here.   It is messages like this that do give me HOPE.
"In time you will get to this point. It's something you move towards. But it doesn't happen quickly. It's those moments in days when you wholeheartedly laugh without remembering and you don't suddenly stop yourself anymore. It's when you give yourself the permission to go on - with joy. But it is in time it is not right away. And it isn't at this moment for you. Mine took years, most people I know it takes years. But it is there - it is something that you can have. Believe xo"  
Thank-you shelley


Now do i recover or not.   I force myself each day to do things that push me on the road to recovery.   When i think about people who chose not to have children, it makes me think that perhaps their own parents lost a child when that person was young, and the pain that they saw from the death of their sibling was enough to push any maternal instinct out the window, it was THAT PAINFUL to watch their parent go through it and never recover.   I want my own children to make healthy decisions based on their own conclusions, not to be forced upon a path based on what I have chosen to do, or not do, because my son died.  I can't control anyone else who is in my children's life on how they respond to zach's death, but I CAN control myself and my actions.  

Each day, i wake up, happy to see my children, happy to have had another day with them.  And each day, I am sooo grateful its one less day i have to be without Zachary.

And now there are two

I had a dream about reading some great Facebook message. I couldn't remember it exactly. But something like life happens, you aren't chosen. My greatest conflicts come from thinking I'm chosen. That my son stolen from me. Our trip to Calgary reinforced Zachary is dead, forever. He lived in Calgary for two years. Every moment we were there this weekend, was so in my face, my grief, but thank god we moved. We had no family there, his life was a much happier life in Saskatoon, much happier. My son lived a very happy life. But is that enough???? The million dollar question. He missed out on everything I've experienced since we moved back to Saskatoon when I was in grade 8. From grade 8 til now, I'm turning 40. I don't know. Only the good die young seems like a slap in the face. So it got me thinking. My therpistic says that why drug dealers are still alive. Alcoholic. Abusers. So they are still alive because they haven't learned their lessons yet. So if they die never learning their lessons, is that who goes to hell? Our life is refined with two children, not three. It's very surreal living a new life. I still am in complete shock that Zachary is dead. I hear his voice crystal clear, I see him older in my mind. How do you accept you won't see your child until you die. Ah, it makes death welcome, no longer scarey. As I said at zachs funeral, don't cry for me when I die, I will be reunited with my son.

TIME, is now different

The one thing a bereaved parent will tell you is how screwed up time is.   What was once very solid, a very known entity, is now altered.   The ability to look forward and look backwards with anticipation, and with satisfaction, is no longer true.   The very fact it has been since March since I blogged, tells you how screwed up my world is with regard to time, if felt like yesterday that I last wrote down words.

this is what I wrote to another bereaved mom on the eve of her daughters one year mark of her death (hugs to Cindy):
"I sometimes wake up, look at my wrist hoping the tattoo is gone, because that would mean my son is alive. I think about what has happened from now to the moments before my son died, wishing every snow flake, rain drop, whisper of wind, would return to what it was prior to his death, have the entire universe click back, undoing all its done to erase his death. I think about the future and how it is so different now. My future is marred with sorrow, despair, it no longer holds the hope it once did.
I think about my journey to share my sons journey, to save another child, when I would rather be at the rink watching him in goal. I think about my life's path, my hard path while watching other parents have an easy life with all children living.

This is just a fraction of what a bereaved parent has to live with compared to a nonbereaved parent. All our paths are different but all our paths are the same. We no longer have the innocence we once did when our children were born into this world. We all now embrace death, welcome it as a long lost friend and we hope for it sooner than later so we can hold our children again. Until then, we live, unbelievably."  

I remember watching one of xander's hockey games, actually, the second one after zach's death.   I watched the clock, the seconds almost seemed to move backwards, almost laughing at me.   This is one of many examples I could share.

My perception of time is forever changed, and it, SUCKS.  

Inspiration Comes in all Forms

Inspiration:  who inspires me?  I am inspired by those who want to do better for this world who haven't experienced trauma, I am inspired by those who want to do better for this world who have experienced trauma.   I am inspired by those who make this world a better place.   And I am inspired by those around me, who went above and beyond, what I ever thought was possible.

Some people are people who have inspired me.   Please don't take offence if I didn't mention anyone in particular.

First off, my brother Darren.   You have to realise, I was able to exist and live in my fog in the first two months following zach's death because my brother did everything for us.   He arranged the entire funeral, spent countless hours on the phone with the police and coroners, basically, he let me grieve while all details were done by him and michelle.  I would be a different person right now, without him and his family.

One of my friends Lana Peterson.  Lana inspired me because she was a relentless advocate in educating her town where she lives on the dangers of the choking game.  
http://foxinfocus.ca/2011/11/14/dont-play-the-game-dont-give-in-to-peer-pressure/
She faced many obstacles in her fight to inform the parents in her community so THEY wouldn't lose a child like I did.   Facing all the obstacles, she was relentless in her pursuit of saving another child.  Her community is lucky to have her.

A new friend I met since zach died, Erin Spray.  Erin is going to Parliament!  Erin lost her son Jaren 3 months before Zachary died.   She is fighting to ensure another parent doesn't have to deal with insurance, that we are allowed to grieve the worst loss anyone will ever face.  A paid year off, NO QUESTIONS ASKED.  It would be much easier to go back to her own world, but she is giving herself to help others.

And another friend since zach died, Leanne Thompson-Hill.  Leanne is assisting Erin in her journey to Parliament, as well, is helping organise Rayna's Day of Play.
http://www.wishteaparty.com/how-you-can-be-involved.html
Leanne also owns Tantrix tattoes.  Tantrix did mine and Sean's memorial tattoos for zach.  Her business is selflessly giving free tattoos to parents who have lost children.   Leanne inspires me because she has not lost a child, but has done above and beyond things to help grieving mothers.
http://tantrixbodyart.com/artwork/2479508_In_memory_of_Zachary_Dawson.html
On a side note, I'm getting ready for my THIRD tattoo!  This one will encompass all three of my children.

My cousin Cathy Beaven.  While the world continues on, Cathy continues to support me, sending me inspirational messages, asking me how I'm doing.  It is like she KNOWS, without her knowing. 

My epicure leaders, my other family, the women who have too lost children.   Margaret, Pauleen, and Tracey.   All three of these women surrounded me, protected me, listened to me.  Tell me and continue to tell me, there IS HOPE.  

I could continue on and on.  For now, I will conclude my short list of a very long list of people who inspire me.

Everything I do in this world, I now do for him.   My son is my hero, he is my inspiration.

March 15, 2012 - Hope ???

dictionary.com defines hope as:

the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best

 

how many people are able to pinpoint the exact moment you lose hope.   Mine was between 6 and 630 on Friday, October 14th.   The moment the doctor came and told us they will be stopping trying to get my son's heart to beat, that his heart never beated from the moment the EMT worked on him.  That he was dead and wasn't going to ever take a breath again.  THAT was the moment I lost hope.  

 

My mission is life is to try to regain HOPE.   Regain the feeling that events will turn out for the best.   Regain trust that there is a purpose to life, that there was a purpose to my son dying.

 

I had a visit with an old friend of mine.   I talked and talked, my jaws hurts now and I'm tired.  I hadn't seen her since zach's death, being able to visit her.   We had a good talk about how events in our life will shape who we are.  How we are raising our children to have compassion, to not be selfish, how there are consequences to actions.  And how this is something I will have to learn to live with, that we instilled these values in our children and how my son was stolen while other children, well.......   It is hard watching the news, hard driving in certain areas of town at night, hard watching children that are ignored, that aren't being parented.   This is something that I will have to learn to live with.

 

How do I honour my son, how do I heal?  I contacted the Lung Association as Zachary had asthma from birth.   I am meeting with them to see how I will be able to help, how I can maybe help save a child's life from asthma.   I have also been asked by GASP to assist them with their website.  I will be talking to Sharron Grant and see where this will lead.

 

I mostly keep busy, mostly try to heal, but mostly I suffer each day with the loss of my son.  

 

 

March 9, 2012

Tonight we went out for supper with friends of ours.   One of the couples wanted to go to Rodeos to watch a friend play in a band.   As I'm sitting there I realize Zach will never get the chance to do anything he wants (like be a musician), ever, ever, ever.  I felt almost panicky sitting there, not knowing what to do about the feeling that had come over me.  

This will be my life, a lifetime of having moments like this.   Grandparents die, parents die.   You don't mourn what would have been with their lives because THEY GOT TO LIVE IT.  Your child, you mourn their life, what their potential would have been, you mourn what years they didn't get to live, their future they won't have, the children they won't kiss, the spouse they won't marry.   You don't do this with parents, grandparents.   That is the main difference between the deaths.   This knife in my heart for their stolen future will always be there, just some days are better, and some days, well, I don't know if I truly want to explain how bad the bad days are.

I think about my son every second of every day.   I recall when I yelled at him, didn't have patience with him, didn't take the time with him and each memories, is like the knife, going into my heart.   We are so busy sometimes, think there is always tomorrow, I will watch him tomorrow; play his x-box, I will tomorrow; take him to Shoppers, I will tomorrow........   We will never have a tomorrow again with Zachary.   I mourn my lost future with my son, every second, of every day.