Showing posts with label grief therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief therapy. Show all posts

Friday, February 17, 2012

Time marches on...

It's been 8 months since I wrote something here. Of course I am thinking of Andrew daily, and many times wanted to share some thoughts but just didn't take the time. A bit like missing an old friend but hesitating to reach out, I guess.

Andrew's birthday came and went in January. I had originally planned to take the day off of work, but my girls went out-of-state to visit their dad, so I just worked. As it turned out, I wished I had taken it off. An inmate at the jail where I work passed away. He had some kind of liver disease and wasn't expected to live much longer, but its a shock when it happened and the officers and staff has to deal with it. I heard one officer relating how the person looked when they checked him. "His eyes were so blank," I overheard one officer say...that hit me so hard.

I remember when I watched the doctor check Andrew's eyes. There was nothing going on in there. I saw it. Andrew's father saw it, too, or so I thought. I knew Andrew was gone beyond the point of return. Still the doctor offered some hope, talking about miracles. I think that was wrong, but maybe necessary. I knew my faith wasn't designed to believe in such an extreme miracle. I know Bill and the girls weren't ready to accept that truth and hope was what they were clinging to, so I just went along with it. But Andrew's eyes were vacant and I knew he was gone.

We maintained our vigil through that day and the next. I remember feeling so nauseous as Andrew's body became distorted with fluids in places like his left hand. You didn't want to touch it or hold on to it because it was swelling up and turning red. I tried to stay on his right side mostly. I felt angry inside that they were keeping his body alive, sort of in torture, when his brain was dead. A useless thing. But I had to stifle my anger and get through this for everyone else.

I spontaneously started to cry at work when they were talking about the dead inmate. Not for him, but for my son. It's been three years but it can still all come crashing back like it was yesterday. All it takes is some comment, a smell, a sound of a ventilator. Next year I am definately taking that day off...

Monday, August 31, 2009

They made it...

They showed up and shared...we had a big family grief counseling session tonight with my two daughters, my ex-husband, my fiance, my future step-son and myself. The therapist did a wonderful job of listening and reframing what was said back to us. I tried to sit back and let Bill and the girls do some talking. Interesting views to be explored, thoughts to ponder, insight to be gained. I am hopeful that, in time, we will begin to feel whole again, maybe better than before, as we share our love for Andrew and let go of our pain. That's all I can say for now.

On another note, Lee helped me sift through the mountain of mail I have been avoiding for 4 months. I simply did not want to deal with the bills and the mail...unless I absolutely had to. It's time to access where we are at and take care of our financial responsibilities...things I have been avoiding. I have a lot of shredding to do and a lot of checks to write. I've been in such a muddle with my own affairs, so it feels great to get some of this sorted out. At least I now have a starting point...