Just Give Me A Little Time

Spring - New Life

The reprieve was nice while it lasted, but it couldn’t go on forever. The sun is out again and that’s how it should be, I suppose.
Driving back from taking Robert to school, I realized that the last time I had driven him in, had been in October, B.A.D: Before Andrew Died.

I was in such high spirits then. I was studying and writing about the Law of Attraction, everything fascinated me. I felt so attuned with everything, driving back home on those mornings I remember giggling at the sun that seemed to play hide and seek with me, the trees appeared to be waving to me, and wherever I looked, people seemed to be smiling. Andrew too, seemed happy.

I cannot believe that with less than two months left B.A.D. life could have been so… normal, happy. Every time I saw Andrew or spoke to him, I enjoyed it, but I didn’t cling to it-him. I didn’t try to hug him longer, or keep him talking on the phone. Andrew was… Andrew, one of the three children I was blessed with on this earth.
Unlike Florentina who called every morning, I was okay not hearing from Andrew for a few days.
In her earlier college days, determined to assert her independence, Florentina hadn’t wanted me calling her all the time. It wasn’t until the novelty of being away from home wore off, and her freedom was fully established, that Florentina and I started having daily chats. With that lesson under my belt, I left Andrew alone and unless he called me, I didn’t call him more than every few days.
Now, going over and over those last few weeks, I cannot comprehend how life could have seemed so normal when the Grim Reaper was around the corner. How did his chilling breath not reach me, warn me?
Now all I have of Andrew are his empty clothes, his empty room. Pictures, memories, a lock of hair, his ashes, yes all precious… but where are my hugs, his light-filled smiles, our interesting conversation and yes our arguments too?
But I am learning… not to do without him, no, but to be with him… differently.

I used to be afraid of sleeping on my own, and, when alone, I would have left a small light on. Inevitably I would not sleep well because of the light, but the alternative would be sheer panic.
Hugh is in England at the moment, and while in the past I would have pestered and bribed Robert to sleep with me, this time I haven’t. I found that I am not afraid. Whatever ghosts frightened me before, they’ve disappeared. When I turn off the light, the only presence I feel is Andrew’s, and I am filled with joy.

So, dear Brother Sun, dear Spring and Summer, give me a little time and I will come to enjoy you again. I will learn to see Andrew in every blossoming bud, in every blade of turgid grass, in the melody of Nature springing into exuberant life. Just give me a little time.


I love you Andrew

PS. My wonderful friend Terry just called: “Do you want to come here?” I asked. “Don’t you want to escape from your house?” she asked. (I don’t want to escape, but it is nice to have Terry around and she said she has a nice place in mind for a Latte)

6 thoughts on “Just Give Me A Little Time

  1. Eloquent and touching share. So many of us can relate to the choices you’ve made in raising your children and the quest to find the right balance of parenting, friendship, and space as they strive for independence. We do the best we can.

    Take all the time you need.


  2. I am so sorry for your loss. It’s been nearly five years since I lost my father. And while I know your loss is different from my loss, suicide leaves all of us with so many questions and such a feeling of helplessness. I cannot imagine what losing your son must feel like. I know that every day, I feel my father’s loss differently. One day it’s anger, the next day guilt, the following day total confusion, the day after sadness and pity, and then anger comes back after that.

    Today, I am climbing back from a couple weeks of darkness, after experiencing the death of a friend. Every day is a new struggle.

    I’ve told myself over and again, there’s nothing we can do for the one that’s gone. He’s gone. We can only do what we can for those who are still with us, including ourselves. May we both find peace in loving the ones who are still with us and stay strong for them.

    • You are right, every loss is different, and I don’t think that to lose a parent to suicide is any easier than to lose a child. We are all survivors.
      By the way, have you had a reading? I had one a couple of weeks ago and it was helpful.
      Take care of your self and thank you for taking the time to write. Hugs, Esmeralda

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