|
Life Without Matthew.....by
Mom
|
|
December 17, 2007: Wow…I can’t believe I haven’t written since mid-October. I’m doing okay…not sure if it’s on my own or the aid of my medications - maybe a little of both.
Thank you to all who have sent us messages of kindness in your thoughts of Grieving Hearts Talk: The Matthew R Churchill Story. Your words are encouraging and lift our spirits.
I was walking into a Shopping center a few weeks ago and noticed a poster on the entrance door. It was an announcement that they were selling Matthew’s book – the front cover of Matthew’s book displayed. As I walked by I said, I can’t believe it, this is my life and I’m walking by a poster of Matthew – how can this be. I wanted to drop to my knees and just melt away. This can’t be my life….this is someone else’s life, not possibly mine.
Today, I had a very very emotional day. I called Rod at work and told him I wanted to take out Matthew’s nutcracker collection from our Christmas storage. Minutes later I called him back; no I’m not going to take them out. Our Christmas treasures in boxes downstairs that hadn’t been touched in two Christmases. After a few hours sitting and thinking. I decided to visit the basement peeped around the corner and stared at the boxes. How am I’m going to do this. I opened the first box, oh good…Christmas table clothes and next our nativity scene. Then almost as if the box glistened, there lay Matthew’s nutcrackers all neatly wrapped in tissue by him in January of 2005. My hands and legs began to tremble and the tears flowed. I sat down next them and began to unwrap them – each one a precious memory of Matthew. Matthew loved glitter and shiny things and they did sparkle, as they were unwrapped. I placed them all back into the box and carried the heavy box up over the stairs. I carefully placed them on our mantle. As I backed away the lights in the dining room dimmed again. This only happened once before and that was when Tom Badcock was here as we were discussing Matthew’s book. I’m so delighted that I have Matthew’s nutcrackers out for Christmas - actually I’m thinking of leaving them there all year round. I’m so proud of me!! I know Matthew is so very happy to see his collection out again. Oh Matt, mom loves you and misses you so very much. The words “very much” seem so small in expressing my feelings. Mom loves and misses you more than words can say.
I have all my Christmas gifts wrapped and ready to be delivered. I love the feeling of giving; it just makes me feel good inside.
The snow has built up around Matthew’s Resting Place and is making me anguish. I have Matthew’s Christmas tree ready to be placed on his Resting Place. It took me a full day to do, but if I do say so, I did a remarkable job.
Rod placed a birdhouse out on one of our birch trees a few weeks ago. I didn’t think that such a small box could bring so much peace and beauty. As I stand up looking out our back window, blue jays, woodpeckers and other small birds come for a visit.
Thank you to those you have e-mailed me and wondering why I haven’t written in such a long time and wondering if I was okay. I won’t wait so long to write. Till next time…..
Have a fun filled and safe Christmas!
Love and God Bless,
Desma Mom of special angel Matt
Sunday, October 14, 2007: Well here I am two years and seven months later…my life without Matthew. I can’t believe it. I get through the day knowing I'll be with Matthew again.
I find that I am still in a constant, anguished struggle. My mind continuously thinks of Matthew, and it wants to block the pain of thinking too much. Then my heart needs, and wants, to think of Matthew. If I think too much, will I lose my mind because it sends me into absolute despair?
On September 21, 2007, Leary's Brook Junior High School had a ceremony in which they had a tribute to Matthew. Mr. Byron Head, staff and students did such a wonderful job of honouring Matthew's memory. The school has named the gym in Matthew's honour – The Matthew R. Churchill Memorial Gymnasium. We are so very proud. This tribute will forever be in our hearts. We also want to thank NTV News (Fred Hutton), CBC Here & Now (Debbie Cooper), The Telegram (Danette Dooley), VOCM (Jennifer Tulk) and Out of the Fog (K. Holmes and P. Daley) for their coverage of the dedication. As you know, this is so very important to us. Thank you for showing another positive impact that Matthew had on others. Thank you to Milton Peach, Dave Denine, Guy Matthews, Allister Dyke and Robert Ridgley for your kinds words at the ceremony. Matt’s very close friends Greg Thorne and Morgan Chaulk unveiled the dedication plaque in honour of Matt. The plaque reads, “a smile happens in a moment, but its memory can last a lifetime. If you see a friend without a smile, give them one of yours”. More of Matt's best friends, Jason Duggan and Andrew Carter, lit a candle in Matthew's memory. Mr. Andrew Cooper (Matthew’s favourite music teacher) sang the song, “I Know You By Heart”. The song was sang so beautifully - the tears flowed from my eyes. The song lyrics are included here at the end of my entry.
Last week while in the kitchen, just as my confidence was building in this area and my ability to follow a recipe without reading it a hundred times was improving, my hands decided to juggle a pyrex dish from the cupboard and before I knew it….ouch!!! I called Rod at work to come home NOW. As I rocked in the rocking chair, hand bandaged up and tears flowing, a golden retriever stared at me trying to figure it all out. Rod got home and off to the HSC we went – 4 hours and 7 stitches later in my pinkie finger, we were back home. Just going into the HSC makes my legs shake uncontrollably. It’s where I heard the worst news of my lifetime.
I'm not back to work yet. Still not sure when.
Eva
Cassidy - I Know You By Heart Lyrics
Tuesday, September 18, 2007: I haven’t written in some time now. I’m going day to day. I’m still not able to go back to work. Not sure when I’ll get my physician’s okay to do so.
Rod and myself went on a short vacation to Niagara Falls the first part of September. The trip was relaxing eventhough we walked lots. One "souvenir" we returned with was the flu, which we are still fighting. My flue seems to love me a little too much!
On Friday we are attending Matthew’s school, Leary’s Brook Junior High for a ceremony. Matthew has been honoured with the renaming of the gymnasium to “The Matthew R. Churchill Gymnasium”. The school ceremony will have a candle lighting, and unveiling of a plaque and balloon release. We are so honoured. However, this will be a difficult day as we enter Matthew’s school once again.
Rod is getting ready to go back to coaching hockey again for the new hockey season. I know he enjoys it, but I’ll miss him on the weekends.
I’ve enjoyed some of my evenings on the internet application Facebook. I was surprised and so happy to see that there was a group in honour of Matthew there, set up by one of his friends. The Group name is “in memory of Matthew Churchill”.
Thank you for the many e-mails wondering how I was doing since I haven’t written in awhile.
This is a quote I found and really like it: The knowledge that we'll someday enjoy "eternal peace" means we can face anything here on earth as long as we focus on the joy that's waiting for us in HEAVEN.
Thursday, July 19, 2007: I haven't written now in a month. July month is a difficult month, all months are difficult but July 14 is Matthew's birthday. This July Matthew is celebrating his 18th birthday. It's so hard to believe that he has not been here for his 17th and now his 18th birthday. I wonder what he is doing? Do they sing Happy Birthday in Heaven? I sang Happy Birthday to him from down here. In the early morning of last Saturday Rod and myself released balloons and laid flowers at his Resting Place. What a nice feeling from within as I released the balloons. We watched and watched until they were out of sight. We made another visit in the afternoon, there were many other flowers and balloons placed there. Its a comforting feeling knowing that family and friends stopped by to say Happy Birthday to him. Its a warm feeling knowing that people took the time out of their day to visit with him. Thank you so very very much! Rod and myself decided this year that we would dedicate a banner in Matthew's name to our church for his birthday. Please click here to see banner.
I haven't been doing alot of anything these days. I weed the gardens and many evenings attempt dinner making. I have made one big positive step - I can now read a novel. I have enjoyed reading these last few weeks. I have to say good-bye to Brittany (Spears) and the gang. You have brought me many hours of mindless reading - thank you. Another step is that work is now in the future. It is said that maybe by September I will be returning.
My niece Ava (turning one on July 31) was over yesterday after being away for three weeks. As she saw me she lifted up her little arms to me - oh what a wonderful feeling. As Ava and her mom Lynette were leaving; her little voice going hmm...hmm as she reached out she looked up at Matthew's picture and placed her little hand of his face and moved in for her kiss and then left with a big smile.
Saturday, June 16, 2007: I'm pooped today I just finished walking 4km. The walk - Strides for Change was in support of MADD Avalon Chapter. My sister-in-law Lynette and 10 month old beautiful niece Ava came along and walked with me - Ava was in her comfy stroller. At the end of the walk I wished I could have changed places with Ava.
Tomorrow being Father's Day, I know it will be difficult for Rod. I have to end here.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007: In two weeks it will be one year since I have worked. I know soon that I will have to return. I’m nervous because I lack the confidence in myself. But I need an outlet for my time.
The book we are writing with Tom Badcock is coming along so well and should be out in three months.
My pass few months have been better than worse... but this thought could change at anytime. I’m learning to live with this broken heart.
I now enjoy the sunny and warm days as much as the foggy and rainy days. Those foggy rains days were once my best companion. The sunny warm days seem to like me a little more.
Matt’s garden is full of the most brilliant colourful tulips. I can’t wait for the other flowers to awaken and dance to the breeze of our summer.
Monday, May 28, 2007: Last Monday over the long holiday weekend, Dad and myself volunteered with MADD. We handed out literature about MADD to drivers at a roadside sobriety check with the RNC. It felt then as if the night sky gave me a wink.
Monday, May 14, 2007: My life since I have last written. Thank you for all the e-mails since my last posting asking how I have been and wondering when I would be writing again. You inspire me to write.
From April 26 to May 3, Rod and myself were in Vancouver, British Columbia. We attended a MADD Conference and Vigil. We met some wonderful and amazing people at the conference including Bella and Clarence Burden, Jackie Rumbolt, Pauline Parsons and Joyce Hubbard. We enjoyed our long chats, walks, and dinners. Attending the candlelight service with you meant so very much. You will forever be friends. Rod and myself felt comforted and welcomed there.
Now in my heart I know what I have to do next. In previous writings I have explained that there was something I needed to do – a next purpose. Maybe this is it!! I have told my family that there was a reason why Matthew named his band ZERO TOLERANCE just three months before he was killed. Maybe this is my sign?? I hope to attend my first MADD meeting in June.
During our time in Vancouver, umbrella in hand, we slowly strolled the beautiful city. We took in an Imax movie about the Deep Sea. We shopped for our nieces and nephews on Robson Drive and went to Granville Island. We travelled to North Vancouver via sea bus. We took a harbour cruise of the bay; I found the ride relaxing and peaceful. Stanley Park was breath taking, I was in awe of the beauty – the trees were so tall and enormous. At the Vancouver Aquarium I felt empty as we entered the aquarium. There was a photographer taking pictures. To have our picture taken at an amusement center and in the photo just a mom and dad, with really no smile to show – there was someone very special missing in the photo. As I look at the photo today I see two lonely people, who love each other, but missing the most important person, Matthew. This had been the first time away from home since Matthew’s passing.
We also met up with good friend Shirley McLaren and family who now lives in North Vancouver. Rod worked with Shirley for many years at Black Pine Limited. Shirley and her beautiful daughter Claire met us at the hotel and took us on a tour outside the city. Again I was in awe of the beauty of the towering trees, brilliant colors of the flowers, and the peacefulness. We then went to Shirley’s home, her neighbourhood again towered by the trees and colourful surroundings. Thank you so much Shirley for your kind thoughtfulness and your warm hugs.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Rod had asked me if I wanted a card or gift. I know I sounded mean – with my reply, “I’m not a mother anymore”. Rod’s reply was “you are a mother and always will be.” I know this is true but I have no one to care for, to hug, to kiss, to hold, to talk with, to do things with. Here on earth I’m not a mom. Matthew is in heaven being taken care of. I’m a mom of an angel, who dearly loves her only child and will forever in my life here hold him in my heart and thoughts always. My niece gave me a beautiful golden dragonfly ornament and a card that read “ For My Godmother, I’m so glad God Gave Me You, Happy Mother’s Day…Love Ava”.
So many people have e-mailed us about the book, Grieving Hearts Talk, The Matthew R. Churchill Story. Please know that we are still in the process of writing, or should I say, Tom Badcock is still in the process of writing as we tell him, and others about Matthew, the trial and our life without Matt. The book is now on its 12th chapter. For the people outside the country who have written about where to get a copy, please know that there will be information shortly. I’ll post it on the website once I receive more detailed information. |
|
Wednesday, March 28, 2007: Two years ago today – my life EMPTY forever. My heart and insides feel as empty as they did on the evening of March 28, 2005 (on Easter Monday).
I have beautiful flowers to place at Matthew’s Resting Place. I will also be doing something in Matthew's honour.
Most all days I do get up from bed, dress and try to keep busy. I’m faithfully trying to be as comfortable and content within my days. I do a lovely job with smiling on the outside. The aid of medication patches the wounded edges.
Yesterday I stayed in my pj’s all day and sunk into the sofa. On one of my many naps during the day, a soft touch on my face and arm woke me. As I raised my head, I wondered, how did Scooter (our cat) get into the living room since I didn’t open the french doors to let her in. I thought maybe I was dreaming, so again I put my head down. The soft and gentle touch once more glided across my arm and face. I had felt the same tranquil touch before – my heart and mind believes it was Matthew’s touch - a touch of Heaven from my angel.
Many of my days as I walk through the busy supermarkets or shopping malls I have this immense feeling inside and often wonder does it reflect on my face – it’s the feeling of deafening grief from within – one that dwells in my existence. Not that I’m in want or need of pity… I get that on my own. Then my thoughts wonder to others I see - maybe they are going through sorrow, turmoil or despair in their lives. But I remember to smile at them – knowing maybe I shared a smile with some one – a bit of hope I have.
It was twenty-three years on March 5 that my mom had passed away. I know that she is with Matthew in a beauty of peace beyond our imagination. Where God in his tender loving care wipes away all tears.
Next month, Rod and myself have decided to attend a MADD conference in Vancouver.
Thanks to all of you who have sent letters, e-mails in remembrance of Matthew’s second year with Angel wings. To all of Matt’s friends, family and strangers, thank you so much for remembering. A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
The following lyrics are from a song by Kenny Chesney but they say so much that is so true about my and Rod’s painful existence:
"Who You'd Be Today"
Sunny days seem
to hurt the
most.
Tuesday, March 2, 2007: Not a good day. The individual who took my son’s life is “supposed” to be released from jail today. I say "supposed" because that was the date that appeared on a piece of paper we received in the mail from the Department of Justice. This is the same individual who admitted to drinking that evening and went to stay at a hotel instead of contacting the police. He received a six month sentence that was served in four months. Compare that sentence to my life sentence. In twenty-six days, Matthew will be in Heaven for two years waiting for our journey to join him.
My anger has been suppressed by my grief caused from missing Matthew. When the beast of anger comes to the surface, my heart races and my head aches. I try not to let this emotion in and consume me. My love and missing Matthew outweighs these monstrous feelings from within.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007: Tomorrow will be our second Valentine’s Day without Matt. I would always have a card and a few chocolates on his bed in the morning. The opening of the card would always be followed with a big hug and a thanks mom. I close my eyes and I can feel the warmth of his hug.
I hadn’t been able to visit Matthew’s Resting Place in the last few weeks due to the snow build up. This was really upsetting me so we had a plow come and remove the snow from the entrance and the gates leading to Matthew’s Resting Place. This evening I will be able to place his Valentine’s decorations and card for him.
Lately I’ve been so tried. I try not to nap during the day in hopes that I may find it easier to go to sleep in the night…but no luck there either.
As I type while glancing out my window the snow is softly falling - it’s peaceful, it blankets the ground without making a sound. Then my minds drifts to a memory when Matthew was a little boy, we’d have so much fun in the snow, building snowmen and making snow angels. Little did I know that my heavenly angel would be just fifteen?
Wednesday, January 31, 2007: 39 and “not holding”… I celebrated my 39th birthday today. I was delighted when Rod said he was taking the day off with me. Last year I asked for no cards, no well wishes, and no cake – don’t even mention it!!
It lifted up my spirits today when I received such beautiful cards from my family. All of the cards I could tell were picked with time, meaning and beautiful verses. Thank you friends and strangers for the thoughtful e-cards – thank you for remembering. They were comforting to me, knowing you care.
This morning we started our day with a doctor’s appointment and then we went to my Dad’s – he reminds me of me so much. Then Rod, Lynette (my sister-in-law), Ava (my niece & goddaughter) and myself went out to East Side Mario’s for supper. Ava is six months old today. She makes me laugh and smile. When she smiles at me with a coo, I could just squeeze her. I ended my evening talking to my brother Dann and sister Daina as I do every night.
As I blow Matt my nightly kiss above, I’m sure many kisses flowed down with a Happy Birthday Mom. As I type I have to go because my tears are flowing.
Monday, January 22, 2007: Saturday while I was out shopping, I walked into a gift shop in the Village Mall. As I walked around inside I noticed on a shelf all by itself was an ornament of two panda bears. A beautiful ornament of two black and white bears sitting side-by-side sharing a branch. I thought, “Okay, I need this”, but also thinking it’s going to be expensive. As I picked it up, the clerk walked by me and said that’s 75% off the red ticket. As I paid for my new treasure, I tried not to let anyone see my smiling tears.
Sunday afternoon while I was looking out my bedroom window waiting for Rod to come home from hockey, I saw a figure walking with snowsuit, hat and gloves. My heart sang out “It’s Matthew! Oh my God it’s Matthew”. My heart had never felt so alive in such a long time. My heart was singing and then all of a sudden my mind interrupted my heart. The tears flowed down over my cheeks like a waterfall. I stood at the window and just stared. As the figure walked by, reality invaded me. Seeking to be consoled, I went and lied on Matt’s bed, saying to myself, “I will never again see him on his bed or see him walk into his bedroom where I was now laying”.
I know the reality of my life is that Matt waits in Heaven for us, but for a few seconds sometimes my reality leaves me and my imagination steps in.
In the last twenty-two months, I’ve learned how to physically survive. I’m still working so hard on the emotional impact of my life without Matthew. I haven’t returned to work yet. When will I know that I’m able to?
I know that life goes on and the world doesn’t stop. The sun will come up tomorrow and the moon will shine at night, the stars will sparkle and the seasons will change. I have many different emotions throughout the day. My main emotion is missing Matt so much that nothing seems to matter around me. My other emotion is that I’m up and hopefully making a positive difference to the people I’m around, that I talk to and that I communicate with. They know my heart aches missing Matt, but I’m here. I know that I make a positive difference to some of the organizations I give to and more importantly to my family.
Thursday, January 4, 2007; 3:11a.m: It’s been almost a month since I have written. I haven’t felt like doing anything last month, just wishing for it to come and go. I thought that this holiday season would be a little gentler on my heart but the heaviness of the despair, loneliness, missing and hurting remains the same – painful beyond belief, almost swallowing me up. But still I keep moving on. I believe I keep moving due to a higher, more powerful force – a light of love – Matthew and God.
A week before Christmas I was thinking of what I wanted to do special. I remembered an article in The Telegram of a youth services program. After deciding that is what I wanted to do, Rod and myself went to Sobey’s and filled the grocery cart. Then down to the program on Carter’s Hill Place with our donation. The warm feeling of giving makes me feel so good.
When Rod and myself went to Matthew’s Resting Place on Christmas Morning, his tree looked so lonely. I cried wanting him, I cried seeing all the nutcrackers family and friends had placed there for him, I cried that I was standing there, I cried because ….
I saw an old friend in the supermarket a few days after Christmas. She said, “Desma how are you doing”? I relied, “okay but not well”. Her reply was, “well it could be worst”. For that I didn’t have an answer, I just screamed in my head, smiled and said “nice to see you again”.
They said that there are phases in healing from grief. I wonder where I’m to? One day I feel as though I have control. I’m aware that I’m a different person and there’s quickness in my step. The next day I need and want to hibernate and feel terrible. I feel like a small child and someone is needed to look after me emotionally. What phase of grief healing is this?
Thank you to all who sent us well wishes of a peaceful Christmas by e-mail and postal mail. Your kindness, care and compassion will never be forgotten. Thank you so very much!
Thursday, December 7, 2006: It’s 3:44am. I’m not able to sleep.
The thought of another Christmas approaching is so unbearable. This will be our second Christmas without Matthew – my mind finds it so hard to comprehend. The Christmas lights and decorations are still difficult to look at.
But I’ve made three big steps so far this December. I have placed a little tree in our living room - it’s about 2 feet tall. I have bought my nieces and nephews gifts instead of giving money. I did enjoy shopping for special items for them and I also bought wrapping paper. As I placed the wrap in the cart, I said to Rod – “I can’t believe I just did that.” As I wheeled the cart around WalMart I wanted to shout, “look what I did, look what’s in my cart, I’m so proud of me”. Then the happy feeling fades and my smile turns upside down. I want to shout, “I can’t believe Matthew’s not here, I want to have him back NOW”. A burst of heat takes over my body and I have to leave the store.
My next struggle is to wrap the gifts that I’m not sure I can do. The birthday gifts that I have given this last twenty-one months have not been wrapped. I know it’s such a simple task but it is mentally so challenging.
This weekend Rod will set up our lighted angel on our front patio. I’m also going to set up Matthew’s Christmas at his Resting Place, along with a beautiful Nutcracker I bought last week. Matthew collected all different types of Nutcrackers. He wrapped his collection in paper towels for the last time in Christmas 2004. They remain in our Christmas tote boxes in storage. I want to take them all out and display them like he did, but I can’t remove the neatly wrapped Nutcrackers that Matthew’s precious hands wrapped.
The many people who stop us along the way just to say hi, almost all will say, your Matthew’s mom and dad. I like being addressed as Matthew’s mom and not Desma or Mrs. Churchill.
Sunday, November 12, 2006: I close my eyes, make a wish that when my eyes open I will see a vision of Matthew before me. When I open my eyes in the mornings I pray to see him before me. Before I close my eyes at night I cry to God asking for just a minute.
The pain and the heaviness of my heart is now normal for me. For twenty months my mind has been an assembly of different emotions that happen all at the same time.
For the last while I had found myself withdrawing more. I stopped going to support group, my psychologist, the gym and so much more. I know that I need these people and activities to help carry me. My positive - this month I will go, I need them.
All I can say is my goodness…thank you all - so many of you who have written us e-mails since the court decision. Your compassion and kindness is so appreciated and greatly accepted. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I would like to thank Ms. Deborah Burton, guest columnist for “The Independent” newspaper for her article written in November 10, 2006 edition, “When a dead child is valued less than a poached moose”. Eventhough I do not know you, thank you so very much. You have stated and written openly so many issues that had crowded, troubled and truly saddened my mind. Thank you for clearing some of the clutter! We must be of the same ‘educated’ mind.
In all my writings I believe that I have only written about the courts once before. Today I have to write a little because I need to tell of the extra heartache the whole process has put me in.
The courts have added anguish to my grief. As if they were almost instructing me – how and when to display emotion. It’s hard to present a smile when your heart is in pieces and your mind in turmoil. My only child is gone this is NOT like the loss of a leg…that I could live with.
I had to put away Matthew's picture during court. Matthew's picture was for me, not anyone else. I bought it with me, to try to relax me and to help me through. Matthew was the reason I was there. That morning I had also had taken Matthew's, teddy bear Joe-Joe with me for comfort. I decided that I wouldn't in fear of looking too silly. Joe-Joe sat in the front of our car during court.
Today I now live with another emotion - guilt. After reading my victim impact statement, the court decided that no other victim impact statements would be read in court. I felt that it was my fault that my family was denied. Maybe if I didn't cry uncontrollably about how the loss of Matthew had impacted my life they would have had the chance. I'm so sorry to my family and Matthew's friend Gregory who were going to read.
After much research and soul searching, Rod and myself are compiling a book, which will be mostly of Matthew’s Life and a section of our misery with the courts and other issues and matters that have happened to us since Life without Matthew. A book distributor and author contacted us during the summer and wanted us to think about it. I will keep you posted.
October 12, 2006: I’m still here!! I haven’t written in so long. Thank you to all those you have e-mailed me with well wishes, prayers and statements of missing my entries. I’m overwhelmed with your kindness and care.
With three increases to my medications for major depression, I feel as though my grief is being buried as I cope. I now wonder how I’ll feel when I come off my meds? My crying has gone from constantly to nightly and my smiles seem to stay around a while longer. My feelings of total worthlessness is subsiding as I do more around the house instead of laying around the house. I have to work on my sleep. My sleeping routine is go to bed around 8:00pm, fall asleep around midnight and then be wide-awake by 3:00am. As I write, it’s now 4:04am. Some nights I'm not able to fall asleep until 3:00am.
I want to move forward in a positive way so I’m treating myself with patience. I’ve seen myself change in so many ways over the last seventeen months. I know I’m a different person now, but how I want the old me!
Since my last entry, Rod and myself became Ava’s (our niece) godparents. It is a joy and a privilege for us.
Rod and myself were presented with an award for the “Best Floral Design” in Gardening from the town of Portugal Cove-St. Philip’s and we were given a beautiful picture of Matt’s Garden framed with the award title.
I finished writing my victim impact statement. But how do you express and describe on paper the loss of the most important person in your life? I will read my statement in court on November 2.
There is an ancient African saying, “There is no way out of the desert except through it.”
Tuesday, August 22, 2006: It’s now 3:44 am.
I haven written in a while - my body is trying to adjust to my new medications. They were making me nauseas, sweat and just fell blah. These side effects are slowly going…thank goodness. I know that these medications aren’t a cure and I don’t want one but they will help me through my dark days. I refused them for so long, I felt that I needed to do this on my own.
There’s not a lot to tell since I have last written because I would just be telling you how comfortable my couch is but I’m back up again knowing I have to do something. I’m feeling better again. There are many falls along the way but I wipe my knees and I get back up.
Matthew’s Aunt Wanda, and cousins Adrianna and Devan are home for a visit from Alberta. I can’t believe how much they have grown up. It was so hard seeing them and knowing that Matthew would have been so excited to see them as well. Matthew and Adrianna were inseparable before they moved and after moving they never lost touch by chatting on MSN all the time.
My positive is that I keep looking for my rainbows. My rainbows mean renewed hope and the colourful bridge between Heaven and Earth.
Happy Birthday Dad, Matthew’s Poppy Brett, we love you!
Wednesday, August 9, 2006: For the past week my emotions again have been everywhere like a roller coaster that won’t stop. I’ve spent most of my time in the rocker recliner, rocking back and forth watching mindless TV. The remote being my only exercise equipment. Again I wait for the rain and the darkness of the day to match my mood. I haven’t been in garden, my interest gone. My mood is like a popular swing at the park…I can’t imagine what Rod is going through with me. Yesterday when Rod said, “Desma you got to try to help yourself”. I decided OK I’m going to start the anti-depressants my doctor prescribed months ago. I tried one a few weeks ago once but I refused the second. I have no idea why I have a problem with it.
Yesterday I decided to get off my bum and do something. My decision - I was going to make a cake. The recipe was from one of my magazines. I read the recipe a few times… it takes longer for things to sink in these days. I needed a few things at the supermarket and a new measuring cup. It was a challenging recipe everything was in ounces. I could just see tomorrow's news headlines – "Woman Finally Loses Mind While Baking Cake"! So off I went picked up my items at the supermarket and went downtown to where my sister Daina works at Living Rooms to purchase the measuring cup. Got home and two hours later I placed cake in the oven and thought...."That doesn’t look right". Read recipe again…Ooops forget half of the flour. Out comes the cake as I try to scoop the top runny batter from the layer of blueberries back into the oven. Timed the cake for 30 minutes as per recipe, that doesn’t look right. Read recipe again…Ooops one hour and 30 minutes. I then surveyed the kitchen and thought I’ll wait for Rod to come home. I can’t tackle this…but I did. When Rod came home he said, “What did you do all day”. I said I baked a cake. Before I went to bed I noticed that half the cake was gone, I thought Rod must have liked it. I said to him, you must have liked the cake. He said, no I took some over to the neighbours. I didn’t ask anymore questions. Was he thinking - look what poor Desma did all day - or the cake was so good I gotta share - or do the birds in our backyard want a bedtime snack??
I want to thank those who have sent us e-mails this last week. Your kindness and thoughtfulness is very much appreciated – thank you. There are hundreds and I’ll try to reply to each one....but it may take a while.
I want to thank the many people who placed flowers on Matthew’s Resting Place for the flower service last week. They are all so beautiful.
August 4, 2006: Today I’m numb - I feel nothing. However, the added anxiety of court makes my body tremble. This is the first time I have written about my feelings towards the trial - court. People have asked if I’m content with the GUILTY verdict. My answer is yes and I thought of no other outcome. Yes, I’m glad justice is served and this individual has to pay for what he has done. Will he ever get what he deserves – NO – not unless he can bring Matthew back to me.
My life enters a spiral of only one emotion today – nothingness. Today it’s just empty - blank. I just don’t know how I feel or what to feel.
That’s all I can write for today – my energy is zapped – I think. I just want to lie in bed.
July 31, 2006: Beautiful and precious Ava Marina Park danced in on angel’s toes today at 10:36am, weighing 7 lbs & 15 ½ ozs. Matthew’s new cousin has a beautiful angel to watch over her.
Sunday, July 23, 2006: I’m doing okay - with my much-required doctors’ advise of having a six-week leave from work. I didn’t realize how much I needed to take time for myself in my grief. I know I went back to work to early. I don’t know why, I just did what people told me I had to do and what they thought was best for me.
My sleep is getting better. I believe it’s the daily fresh air I consume. I spend much of my day in Matt’s Garden. I never thought that daily pulling of weeds from the garden would bring so much tranquility. As I sit on the bench in the garden, I listen to the bees, admire the butterflies, get excited to see a dragonfly and gaze at the birds. I close my eyes and forget that I'm on earth. The stillness and serenity of Matt’s garden and the grounds is peaceful and healing.
For the last sixteen months the rain and clouds were what I wanted to see, but today I wait for the sun.
Big steps for me last week ...for the first time in sixteen months, I changed Matthew’s sheets on his bed. This was such a very big step for me. I didn’t want to change them - I just wouldn’t and couldn’t do it. On this morning, a strong feeling flowed through me, as I thought - Matthew loved having his sheets on his bed changed. I’ve missed 64 bed sheet changes since he’s been gone. Another big step happened on this day - I opened his window for the first time in sixteen months. Instead of his smell escaping out the window I felt it encircle the room as his scent surrounded me – a little touch of heaven for me. I thought doing these things would bring me to my knees, but I felt so strong, good and wanted to do them. I don’t know if doing this was because I know Matthew loved clean sheets and having his window opened, or is it because my coping ability is getting a little better?
Happy 3rd Birthday Meaghan Pugh. I know Matthew liked that you were born in the same month as he was. He loved having you as a new cousin. Meaghan always loved touching his face and from a baby looked at him with so much love. I know Matthew is proud of you, watching you swim around the pool on Sunday.
I'm hoping to have some pictures posted soon of Matt's Garden in bloom. The dedication tress planted in memory of Matthew at the Janeway children's Hospital and MUN's Botanical Gardens.
Saturday, July 15, 2006: Today I have been having an extremely arduous day - the worst in a while. I don’t know if my day fell apart because I tried so hard to be strong for yesterday and that it finally caught up to me.
My morning started with me having to make a decision. I’m still not doing very well in the decision-making area. I second-guess myself all the time and my thought process isn’t a smooth transition. My first decision this morning caused an anxiety attack as we pulled out of the Sears parking lot. Rod and myself decided that we would get a new vacuum. Decision 1 was: Rod said to me “which would you like”. After studying all the vacuums not one appealed to me. Rod stepped up and said, “we’ll get this one. It’s light and it’s able to clean carpets and our ceramic floors”, he said. When we got to the car, I told Rod "that it cost too much and that I didn’t like it." Receipt and vacuum in hand, Rod walked back into the store with our newly purchased vacuum. When he came back I said “I could have tried it” and then I burst into uncontrollable crying. When we came home I went right to bed and cried to see Matthew. As I rocked with my tears I felt hopeless, helpless and ugly. As Rod stood above me rubbing my back, he kept asking, “what can I do – I feel helpless”. I looked up and I said “I feel the same way – helpless”. We both sat on the bed with tears flowing. Both of us knowing exactly how and what the other was feeling.
We decided to take a little drive. I’m feeling a little better now.
Friday, July 14, 2006 - Matthew's 17th Birthday: Seventeen years ago today was sunny and hot and the best day of our lives – the day you were born and entered our lives. A precious boy to have and to hold, to nurture and care for and love with all that we had. I can so vividly remember holding you in my arms - all 4 pounds and 4 ounces, for the first time at 4:27pm on a Friday afternoon - the feeling of powerful love filled my being. July 14th was always so happy and celebrated as we remembered the wonderful day you were born.
Today, I know you would have been so excited because you would have had your driver’s license. I’m sure there would have been a vehicle in the driveway for you this morning.
This July 14th, there are many tears and a heavy stomach, missing you so very very much. We are thankful for the fifteen years we had to share with you but we wanted so many more. I can’t wait till we meet again. In my heart I believe that you are with your new friends and Nan Helen and your great grandparents in Heaven enjoying your 17th birthday.
The flowers placed at Matthew’s Resting Place yesterday are so beautiful. Thank you to all who took the time to think of Matthew on his 17th birthday. I know Matthew was smiling from above as he saw you there. The colors of all the flowers are beautiful. Thanks to all our family who came to see us and to friends who called and dropped us an e-mail. Again your thoughtfulness will never be forgotten. This means so very much to us.
Matt, Catch our Kisses and reach for our Hugs. Mom and Dad love you forever and always We miss you so very much - words unable to express or describe
Thursday, July 13, 2006: The last two weeks I have been feeling better. I’m starting to take better care of myself. I have decided to take the advice of my doctors and important people in my life and take six weeks to take care of me.
On Wednesday evening Rod and myself returned home from a little excursion we took. Rod had to do some work related stuff. We visited and enjoyed Baie Verte, Corner Brook, Gros Morne, Deer Lake and many small communities on the Baie Verte peninsula. I had never been on this side of Newfoundland. The scenery was breath taking and I couldn’t believe the hills. I tagged along as Rod went on a property visit with other geologists in a helicopter. This is the first time I was on a helicopter and enjoyed the ride. As I sat up front with the pilot, the countryside and surroundings was astounding. The pilot and Rod’s co-workers asked if I was sacred. I said no - I don’t fear anything anymore and flying amongst the clouds I was a little closer to Matthew.
Sunday, July 2, 2006: Again it’s been a while since I have written. I struggle each day because my life is still so sad.
Father’s Day, was very difficult and Rod was so very quiet the whole day. He is my strength and I found it so difficult. In the morning we were presented with 12 baskets of beautiful flowers for Matthew’s Resting Place and a lilac tree for Matt’s garden from Hayward’s Gardenland. Their kindness and compassion will never be forgotten.
Two weeks ago, we attended the closing assembly for Leary’s Brook School and to present the Matthew R. Churchill Memorial award. I found it so hard walking into the school, my legs shaking and continuous tears rolled down my cheeks. Last year it was the numbness that got me through. The assembly was beautiful and touching. We were presented with a painted portrait of Matthew, which was beautifully painted. We were also presented with two donations to the Matthew R. Churchill Memorial Fund.
Yesterday, Rod, my very pregnant sister-in-law Lynette and myself went to Garnish for the day. We attended the opening of Johanna Noseworthy Day Spa for Kids. The park is a beautiful dedication to Johanna Noseworthy. The park was full of children’s laughter, swings, BBQ pit and a wishing well. We met with some other parents from the support group in their area. From the St. John’s parent support group was Jenny Rideout’s family and ourselves. It was so nice to meet these parents. It brings my mind comfort knowing that I’m not alone. I spoke with a mom yesterday who lost her son sixteen years ago, with a hug she said, “I’m sorry but I can’t say it gets easier”.
Today, we spent the day planting flowers and shrubs in Matt’s garden and around our grounds. This is where we focus our time and energy now. I’m hoping to have some pictures of Matt’s garden soon. The blooms, color, growth, butterflies, and birds are amazing and beautiful. I know I have a gardening angel with me while I’m out in the yard.
My positive, I’m thinking about joining weight watchers this week…
Saturday, June 17, 2006: I haven’t written in a while because of another downward spiral. My crying is a constant companion - and the tiredness is continuously with me.
I’m feeling a little better today - eventhough it’s 4:00am - I’m ready to start my day. Rod and myself are going gardening shopping and then gardening. This morning is the first day I’ve asked for the sun to stay for a while.
We had our driveway sealed last Wednesday. You would never think that this would be a problem but for me it was. As I watched the men cover the old pavement, at one point I was ready to scream stop there, as they erased a yellow line Matthew had marked off in the driveway as a basketball shot line. I wanted them to go around that little yellow line that Matthew had left. But I didn’t because I thought they would think that I was a crazy woman.
Rod and my anniversary was on the 10th - we spent it planting flowers and tending to our gardens. On Sunday was Matthew’s pop’s birthday. Happy Birthday Poppy Alf!
I want to thank the many, many people who have stopped us along their way to give a hug, a hello and how are you doing. The number of complete strangers who offer us a prayer and gentle words is so surreal.
In my thoughts, I feel that no one could possibly love their child with the same strong, powerful and intense love like I loved Matthew here on earth and love him in Heaven. But I know other parents feel this love for their child also.
It’s now 5:05am just waiting to wake up Rod to go…..
Sunday, June 4, 2006: Today I have taken another big step. This step involved having a back-out plan in place. My sister-in-law Lynette’s baby shower was today. My back-out plan was to say I had a migraine in the morning so I wouldn’t be able to go. But I did it….I went to the shower and I did okay. As I first walked into the baby shower, the lady in disguise came out – the one with the artificial smile. After a little while, I became comfortable as my sister Daina sat next to me and then my cousin-in-law Kelly. But the lady in disguise appeared once again as the gifts were opened. After the gifts were opened, I walked home without a good-bye. While walking home I thought how rude I was. As I approached our lane-way, the tears flowed like waterfalls and my walk became a run. When I came in the door, I said to Rod, “I did it”. Rod said, “Desma you shouldn’t have went if you knew it was going to be difficult for you”. My reply, “I did purely for love…I did it for Matthew, Lynette, for my new niece or nephew and I did it for me”. I wanted Matthew and Lynette to be proud of me – I hope they were. At the shower, Lynette had a beautiful arrangement at the front door and with the arrangement was a jar. The jar read, “Anyone wishing to give a donation, please place it in this jar. All donations will go to the Janeway Children’s Hospital Foundation in memory of Matthew”. What a beautiful touch!!
On Saturday morning we went out to purchase flowers for Matt’s Garden. In the afternoon, with my new gardening clogs on and rake and hoe in hand, I was off to the garden. It was very warm and the black flies kept me company - although I had wished they hadn’t. I remember being in the garden last year, but almost as if I were a robot being ordered to do things other than being in my crying chair. This year it’s on my own time and will. The garden offers me tranquility, stillness and peace.
Thursday, June 1, 2006: I’ve decided that today my writing will be positive. The reason I’ve decided to write in the positive is because when I opened our emails this afternoon, so many messages were there with comforting, encouraging and supportive words. Carol Ann (a mom of an angel) thank-you so very much for your touching message. Please know that a part of my soul that had been closed and put away, has opened a little. I truly needed to hear those words – your words were a power of strength.
The difference in the way that I feel between negative-depressed and feeling positive are so noticeable to me. As I write optimistically, the heaviness in my body is lighter, my typing is faster, my thinking is clearer, I have confidence in myself, and I want to do things even doing a load of laundry doesn’t sound so bad (I said a load - just one Rod). My thoughts of Matthew are always with me - in my depression and in my positive. I’ll try to ride out in the positive as my new courage trails behind. I do know that I have to create my own inner happiness – only I have control of this. Just trying to find the things that make me happy are so challenging to find. I wonder do I search for it or does it come to me?
As I try to reflect on where I have traveled these fourteen months, I can see that I have lived - crawled and walked with my grief. I have felt every emotion - many all at the same time. My journey has taken me through many stages with many times, steps backwards. What do I see today - my decision making ability is coming back, I have an interest in my gardening, I’ve helped others along the way, I’ve joined the gym and I’ve smiled. I know that I have been especially withdrawn. Slowly I feel the heavy cloak of despair lifting from me. That’s not to say next week or next month that this heavy cloak will once again descend over me. As I write this journal entry and reflect on my own words.. I see within me a person who experienced and lived the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me. I continue to get up every morning and live because I know Matthew would want me to.
Happy Birthday to Matthew’s Nan Bernice today!
He is the beauty you see The gentle touch of the wind The warmth of the sun The kiss of the rain
Tuesday, May 30, 2006: It’s 2:00am and I can’t sleep maybe because I slept all afternoon. I had to come home from work today. My mind was not able to reason or think, plus my eyes fluttered with tiredness. I decided to leave before I fell asleep at my desk again. Last week, in my eighteen years of work, was the first time I had fallen asleep at my desk - I was embarrassed.
My specialist called last week to let me know that my biopsy was now in Washington, DC for further testing. At one time this news would have absolutely sacred me, but now I have no reaction to the news. Fear is no longer a word in my dictionary.
Sometimes I wonder if I am grieving properly or am I truly losing my mind. My emotions are so up and down and there are times I’m not sure where I am - I feel as if I’m on a continuous rollercoaster with my eyes closed.
Last night I purchased another book from Chapters by an expert on the subject of dying and the afterlife. As I read it, all I did was cry. Rod could hear me from the next room and asked me “Desma, why are you reading that book when it upsets you so much?”. It’s not the book that was upsetting me. It was explaining life after death and I so wanted to believe it 100% without doubt - without distrust - without uncertainty. I wanted to hear a voice from above saying “Yes, Desma! These are the facts without any question.” The book tells of loved ones, such as Matthew, being greeted by family as he is guided by his guardian angel. It tries to explain what happens at the moment of transition - that death is but a transition from this life to another existence, a better existence where there is no pain and anguish - that the only thing that lives forever is love. She answers why children die. I found the book very powerful and deep and comforting. I tried to read it with an open mind, which helped.
The court proceedings start again this Monday. I know the misery of my grief will spiral in ways that my mind is unable to handle at times.
My positive. Rod and myself have decided to add onto Matt’s Garden. Right now it’s an octagon shape but we are going to change the shape to a star. It’s will be a little bit of our star here on earth. The pointed star sections will be where we add trees and the octagon will remain with flowers. The heaviness of the dark cloud that usually surrounds me is a little lighter and a little brighter today so maybe I’ll find energy to work on Matt’s garden.
Friday, May 19, 2006: I never slept again last night. The heartache never goes away. I miss Matthew so much each day that no one single day hurts less than any other. My inner body constantly shakes. As I said before, the shock that was my anaesthetics, is wearing off and the pain so very raw. My intense emotional breakdowns can occur anywhere, anytime and without warning to me. They are unexpectedly distressing when they happen but when I come back to myself – I almost wish I hadn’t.
My inner impoliteness. Its so difficult to share in conversations about simple things like the weather. While at a restaurant this evening the server said, what’s wrong, smile…..it’s the long weekend. I wanted to yell at him, “Don’t you know it’s impossible for me to smile! Don’t you know I’ve been living without my only child?”, but instead I just offered a little smile. Friends and family will say, “It’s going to be a nice weekend”. My inner thoughts say, “Yeah…so what’s going to be so nice about it? Instead I just say, yeah with no added comment.
To me Rod looks so tired - going to court everyday plus I know he worries about me – still the protector. For me the added stress of the court proceedings is like someone is pushing me from behind, trying to push me over the edge.
This evening I needed to do something positive and remove the negative energy that has invaded my mind and body this last week. I decided to clean out the linen closet. I gathered about 12 sets of old sheets and blankets and have decided to drop them off to the SPCA. Another one of Matthew’s loves – he loved all animals. This is where we adopted our cat Scooter on November 22, 1997. While there, Matthew wanted to take them all home and insisted we had more than enough room. Today Scooter and our Golden Retriever, Harley, still grieve for Matthew. Scooter cuddles into Joe Joe on his bed and Harley spends hours at the door waiting for his buddy who will never arrive.
At age fifteen Matthew was so aware of organizations that could help people and animals. I know I will always keep the Red Cross, SPCA, Janeway and the local shelters close to my heart because Matthew used to remind us and chat about their important existence.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006:
The below poem was sent to us by Mary Chancey, a mom in grief. It truly expresses the way we feel. Mary lost her beautiful daughter Lori Bursey, May 26, 2005. Thank you Mary for sharing this poem.
Since You’ve Been Gone Since you’ve been gone my world is empty Like a desert without sand Like an ocean without water Like a country without land.
Since you’ve been gone I can’t stop crying Like a long torrential rain For my heart it has been broken And my life is filled with pain
Since you’ve been gone I’m in a nightmare Like an everlasting dream My feet won’t let me run away My voice won’t let me scream
Since you’ve been gone I stare at your picture What a crime and what a shame Your son will never hear your voice Calling out his name
Since you’ve been gone I can’t stop thinking How can this be true It’s like a night without the darkness It’s like a morning without dew
Since you’ve been gone the world keeps turning But my world is standing still Like a mountain in the distance Like a shadow on the hill
Since you’ve been gone my world is empty My days are hard and long I’m like a fish out of the water I’m like a bird without a song
Since you’ve been gone my days are endless My world is running wild , Like a cub lost in the forest.
I’m a mother without her child.
Monday, May 15, 2006:
Matthew
I speak your name with so many tears
I talk to butterflies passing by
Rainbows and shining stars catch my eye As I look up to heaven for a reply
I visit your Resting Place A place I now embrace
I will do this till my time is due
My insides so empty, my heart so shattered My mind and thoughts so scattered
So much to offer, all taken on a March day
Oh how I miss you and pray to see you again Until then…
I’ll continue to talk to you and blow kisses to heaven
Love you, Love you Always and don’t ever forget Love Mom
Sunday, May 14, 2006: Today is Mother’s Day. For the last week I have tried to avoid the thought that this day is soon – to face another special day without Matthew. I thought of what I wanted to do this morning because my mind stops me of thinking ahead. Today I will visit and bring some flowers to my mom’s resting place and visit Matthew again today. I’m also going to drop off some cookies to one of the shelters. I’m also going to plant a tree today in memory of my love for Matthew.
Friday night I never slept nor did I sleep last night since all I thought of was Matthew and how much I missed him. Friends are telling me that Matthew wouldn’t want me this way..…but how do I not think of him when the agony of not having him here is so difficult.
I had my first dentist appointment on Tuesday since March 2005 - this was another hurdle that I have jumped. I cried going in and I cried coming out - not because I fear the dentist, but because I could picture Matthew with me as we would wait in the waiting room. I could picture Matthew walking out after his check-up with his big smile and saying “no cavities”. Matthew’s teeth were so white and straight. This added the sparkle to his beautiful smile.
We, along with family and friends have a few projects that we are doing in Matthew’s memory this month. The tree at MUN’s Botanical Gardens is almost ready to be planted in Matthew’s name. Matthew’s cousins, Adam, Jake, Thomas and Meaghan, are planting a tree in his memory at the Janeway. Rod and myself will be making awards from the Matthew R. Churchill Memorial Fund - one at Beachy Cove Elementary, one at Leary’s Brook Junior High and one at PWC. The cheerleaders at PWC have asked us if they could wear Matthew’s ribbon on their uniforms for their next competition and a class at Leary’s Brook have been working hard on a project in their class in memory of Matthew. Rod presented six awards to Midget Division players on April 9th. Each midget team nominated one player who in the opinion of coaches and teammates, epitomized Matthew’s traits – kind, polite, friendly, happy, generous, gentlemanly and who loves hockey for the sheer fun of it. Rod has started on a collection of memories about Matthew and hockey that he will upload some of today to a new website section called Hockey.
With the court proceeding’s starting again tomorrow, I wish I could blink my eyes and it be over. Once again, Rod will be there but I can’t do it - it hurts too much.
Happy Mothers Day to me – a mom of an amazing angel.
Friday, May 5, 2006: Last Wednesday I had my biopsy procedure completed and I had the same feeling as I had on Jan 5 when I had my EP Procedure done. While being wheeled into the procedure room on a stretcher with nurses and a doctor at my side, I was nervous. With a bag of mixed emotions as the procedure started, I lied still and prayed to see the bright lights and tunnel and for Matthew’s arms to be reaching out for me. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I felt this overwhelming amount of Matthew’s presence in the room with me. I still feel nausea and stiffness, but I’m sure that will be gone in a few more days.
As I battle with my depression, my missing Matthew is so strong. My love for Matthew was and always will be all consuming. I told my doctors the feeling of sadness has taken over me. One of my doctors said it’s because I’ve landed…the shock is gone. I do feel as though the shock had protected me. I don’t want to do anything - I’d rather go to bed than go to the gym. I’d rather stay in bed than go to work and I’d rather have rain than sun. My sadness is so heavy and deep. I haven’t written since April 23 because I just didn’t have it in me to do so. I guess this is a positive...that I’m back writing. I think back to when buying even something like a cup towel would make me happy. Last week we brought a new furniture setting and it did absolutely nothing - it didn’t even bring a smile. I just feel as though this sadness will be with me for the rest of my life. My doctor did say that I will get that happiness feeling back again - someday. But I don’t know! I cried so much yesterday that my eyes hurt to open them this morning.
My tulips that I planted the fall are starting to bloom. Rod wants me to spend some time in the garden this weekend, but I have no desire to do so. Maybe I just need to push myself to do it and just maybe I’ll feel a little better.
Sunday, April 23, 2006: This morning as I lay in bed again thinking and crying, I pretend that Matthew is out in his bed and I can hear him snoring. For a second, a wave of contentment and peace flows over my body and I feel my old normal again. Oh what I wouldn’t do to have that feeling back again.
I know I’m able to laugh at jokes and to smile, but the true happiness that once filled me is gone. I can’t get that happiness feeling back. I’m just empty inside walking around with a face that reacts to what is happening.
I know that my numbness is slowly fading away from me. I miss that protection. It’s hard to explain this protection – only that my mind didn’t have to work. It’s like an invisible shield is slowly being taken from the top of my head. I find that I have to block thoughts. There is not a day goes by that I don’t think of March 28 and up to recently, my mind was protected somehow from handling it, but now I feel as though I have to do it on my own. I stop thinking – shake my head as my mind goes to the flashing lights of the ambulance, to the drive to the Janeway, to sitting down in the funeral home on March 29th.
Rod and myself try to go to the gym at least every second day. While Rod feels good and has more energy when he leaves, I can’t wait to get out into the car afterwards – with my face to the air conditioning. I’m so tired while I’m exercising. I do see the positives though. It is helping my sleep, my flexibility is coming back, and I can walk up the stairs without breathing hard. My blood work is starting to come back to normal healthy ranges. My trainer is wonderful - he pushes me without being pushy and when I ‘seem’ to lose count of my repetitions, he knows exactly what number I’m on. He has helped me to become healthy again – thank you Steve. I know I am a challenge.
Rod and myself were out last evening for our usual stops Wal-Mart, Chapters, Michaels and for a drive. I think Rod agrees to go every night because it prevents me from going to bed at 6:30 – 7:00 every night. On our way home I pretend again and my mind drifts to thinking that Matthew is home waiting for us. These are the only times my stomach feels okay and that the happiness feeling is so welcome. These joyous feelings are jolted back to reality though when we walk in the door to our house and the quietness and loneliness is there to meet us.
Saturday, April 15, 2006: I awake around 7:00am and decided that I wanted to tidy up my front flower garden. I looked out and it was raining. I love the rain - it complements my mood - so track suit on I head out. It was so quiet and the mist of rain in the air was relaxing. As I went around our planter in front of our house, I approached the Maple tree. The Maple tree is now about four feet tall and will soon wear out its welcome in the planter. But this tree will stay here, and if need be, the planter around the tree will be removed. This is one of the seedlings Matthew planted. I can remember Matthew carrying that seedling around wondering where to plant it - “Mom where should I plant this one”? He decided in the planter. This is where my gardening stopped for the day.
Hockey season was over last weekend and Matthew’s team won the Silver Medal. I called the team this season, Matt’s dream team - all his best buddies were on the same team with his dad as coach. It was so difficult watching Rod leave the house last Saturday with Matt’s picture in hand and tears flowing down his face as he said “Matt’s sitting on the bench with us”. As he sobbed going out the door I wanted to yell, “Wait I’m coming!”, but I knew the rink would drive me into another wave of utter despair.
Last week when I saw a few of Matthew’s friends I could see a difference in their height. It’s been a year and I wonder how tall Matthew would be now. He was already the same height as his dad. Sometimes it is so hard seeing Matt’s friends because he should be with them. Other times it is so good to see them - I love to hear their memories and they are amazing young adults.
Monday the 17th will be Easter Monday, Easter Monday was the day Matthew entered Heaven. I feel as though we have two anniversary dates, the date March 28 and Easter Monday. Every year we will have March 28 and Easter Monday (whichever day it may fall on).
As I sit here and think and want to say that I’m doing okay - I’m not... but I’ am. The ache in my heart is the same, as March 28. I know it will be there until my time has come. I have learned that time is not a healer; it only helps you to cope with the suffering.
Thursday, April 6, 2006: While at work this morning, an overwhelming wave of grief struck again. These waves can approach at any time and without warning. The thought that Matthew is no longer here is unacceptable to me. I ran from my desk and into the washroom stall shaking and crying. I wanted to melt away. I could hear people coming and going and I tried not to cry loudly but uncontrollable crying is impossible to do with out making sounds. As I sat on the floor in the washroom I tried to stay close to the wall so people coming in couldn’t see my legs under the stall. Now…I wonder why I just didn’t sit on the toilet…mind was not working.
When I was in bed the other night, I thought for my next writing I’m not going to use the words me, I, myself or mine – I felt that my soul was being swallowed in self pity. But today I feel yes, it is about me because this is my life without Matthew.
I know happiness is a long road ahead of me. Something I can’t see – maybe never again. But I thought if I couldn’t be happy…I’m going to make others happy. I’m ready for volunteering - another big step taken. As I said before, I have this overpowering need to help people by making a difference in somebody else’s life. I believe this is so strong because I want to follow in Matthew’s footsteps.
Tuesday, April 4, 2006: To all Matt's friends please know that we have received the book full of memories from your ceremony at PWC. Thank you for sharing with us your precious memories. In my own grief there are times that I forget so many others suffer the loss of Matthew other than me and Rod.
In your messages to us, you shared so many beautiful and wonderful memories. Please hold them close, I know you will. One friend explained Matt's smile as a glowing aura and another will never forget her first kiss on the bus in kindergarten and another friend takes comfort in her memories. Another friend says she is a better person for having Matthew in her life, and so many more - it would take too long to tell them all here. You also shared with us your grief, as one friend said "it feels like hell without him". Thank you for loving him and not forgetting.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006: Matthew’s first year in Heaven - my thoughts are of Matthew and what he is doing today.
Midnight: The firework of tears went off like clockwork. I pleaded, God please take me - I just can’t do this anymore. My insides are dead why shouldn’t the rest of me be. I couldn’t sleep so I turned on the computer to read all our new e-mail messages - they lift my spirits. Then I went to Matthew’s website ‘Forever Loved’, I looked at the pictures and went to all of Matthew’s angel friends’ websites again. I read though messages and stories of other mom’s of angels – my misery needed company. I felt a little better. At 4:30am I returned to bed thinking “How have I survived?” – but I have!
Early morning: I’m feeling positive energy. I’ve made a big pot of chilli and a chocolate torte cake. I close my eyes and I can see that sun shining smile looking down at me. I know he is proud of me – I can hear – way to go mom and don’t forget the rolls & butter for the chilli. While Rod clears out the many feet of snow from the driveway, I sit and try to read chapter two from a book I purchased yesterday called, “The Art of Happiness – A Handbook for Living” - by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler.
Mid afternoon: Rod and myself went to Matthew’s Resting Place. The walk down from the entrance way is about 120 feet and the snow was to my waist – I said to Rod, “I’ll roll down if I have to”. We stayed, cried and chatted to Matthew. I thought I would do anything to have him back. My life is backwards. I’m not the one suppose to be standing here. It’s all in the wrong order. This time last year Matthew was still here, he was so happy – full of life and with us. Now in a few hours it will be one year. As we go to leave we start to shovel a little path but it took us 1 ½ hours to shovel a walkway back to the entrance. With every shovel full I took, I could feel Matthew looking down on us and smiling.
Thank you so much to all of Matthew’s friends at PWC and at Leary’s Brook for remembering Matthew today. I’m know Matthew will see all the balloons that you guys released for him.
Evening: After making our donation at the Red Cross (thank-you staff for the beautiful teddy bear and card) and delivering our meal to a local shelter, we decided to stay in St. John’s to have supper instead of returning to our house where the silence is deafening. Rod’s sister Lynette and brother-in-law Shawn accompanied us (thanks guys) to the Hungry Fishermen at the Murray Premises. This was Rod’s first time there and although he enjoyed his meal, he wished he was home making Matthew his supper.
After we returned home, I decided to check our e-mail and received another 178 e-mails since 5pm this afternoon. This makes over 400 e-mails received over the last couple of days. We would like to thank everyone for their kind words of comfort and in time I'll will try to reply to everybody. Thanks once again….your kindness and compassion helps to lift our broken spirits.
It is now 9:00pm and my usual routine starts again…..going to bed in hopes of getting sleep. I won’t hold my breath. Although Rod sleeps, he too suffers so much – always awakening in the morning more tired than when before he went to bed.
Our lives are miserable but for some reason we continue to get up every morning and try to get through each day – what other choice do we have? There are other choices but none of which Matthew would want for us.
We love you so much Matthew, you will forever be in our hearts and thoughts. One day we will all meet again and true happiness will once again return to our lives. Hugs and Kisses my precious son.
As I said every night, "Mom loves you and don't ever forget."
Monday, March 27, 2006: This morning while in bed, of course my mind is already trapped in tomorrow, Matthew’s one-year heaven birthday. I decided I’m going to spend tomorrow in bed with my tears. My mind wandering to what Matthew will be doing tomorrow. Then I thought, what would Matthew want to see me doing. I know it’s not staying in bed crying all day. I want to do something that would make Matthew proud of me. My first two thoughts were - Red Cross and people who have little food. Two issues dear to Matt’s heart. So tomorrow I will be going to the Red Cross to make a donation and I’ll prepare a big pot of Chili for people in need. I will release 15 balloons and place flowers at Matthew’s Resting Place. I know that I’ll struggle with tears as my company. I chose to do these things in honor of Matthew instead of lying in bed. I just hope that I find the strength and the will to be able to do this tomorrow.
Friday, March 24, 2006: We are truly overwhelmed with compassion and kindness from complete strangers, friends and family. We checked our postal mailbox today – we hadn’t checked the mail in a week - our mailbox was full of letters and cards. Our e-mail fills with a hundred messages almost daily. Mementos of butterflies, dragonflies and flowers arrive to me. These messages confirm that there are beautiful and caring people in the world – thank you so very much. This last two weeks - my faith in mankind had been lost. The trial had destroyed this belief.
Matthew’s school called last evening to say that they are having a special day planned in remembrance of Matthew on Tuesday. Also, Matthew’s best friend Gregory called this evening to say on Tuesday that all his friends are getting together for a balloon release in remembrance of Matthew. My nephews Adam, Jake and Thomas and niece Meaghan are planting a tree at the Janeway’s Maple Leafs Garden in remembrance of Matthew. All these things mean so very much to me. I don’t want anyone to forget Matthew. If I could write his name in the sky I would.
I wrote a poem for Matthew’s In Memoriam that will be in the paper tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006: This morning I felt as if my bed was a small boat in open water. I rocked back and forth as the tears washed down my face. For some reason, rocking seems to soothe me. I guess it’s because my mom and dad rocked me as a baby and I rocked Matthew as a baby for comfort. I loved the closeness and the bonding that this gave.
When Rod left this morning, he knew its wasn’t going to be a good day for me. I think he can tell before I can. He had turned the fan on, covered the windows to darken the room, laid a glass of water on my night table and kissed me goodbye with an “I love you”... Maybe the rocking and tears gave it away.
As I laid in the darkness looking at the clock it was 8:00am. I said another day of misery. This morning I was looking for answers “again”. I pleaded with God. Please tell me why? Is Matthew okay? Can I see Matthew again just for one minute – I won’t tell anyone? I’ll even accept a sign? What his he doing now? I NEED to KNOW?
I looked at the clock again it read 11:30am with no answers. But I did feel a little better just for asking and the migraine that I had been nursing since yesterday was gone. I needed my chat with God. Eventhough I got no reply, I felt good.
I have found that concentrating on my breaths have helped me along the way. I close my eyes to breathe gently, relaxed, calm and slowly. My attention is on the rhythm. I become aware of the sound of the exhale and feel the inhale of each breathe. The awareness of my breathing is a powerful and inner healer for me. With my eyes closed and my breathing at peace - in my own safe spot - I feel as though I can kiss my shining star and I’m within reach of him.
Saturday, March 18, 2006: I haven’t slept since Thursday.
Those drops of clear, salty water continues to roll down my cheeks. They burn my face and sting my lips. They come with two speeds - strong as a thunderstorm or slow like a dripping faucet. I have no control over them. My tears are now part of who I am and they are important to me.
I feel as if my brain is a maze. At any given time, I can feel loneliness, missing, pain, anxiety, helplessness, fear, denial, panic, sadness, hurt, emptiness, reality, shock, numbness and many more.
Now that the trial has started, new emotions have been added to my already bewildered mind. When Rod comes home from the trial I want to know what has happened but I don’t. I want to watch the news but I’m continuously leaving the view of the TV. It is too hard for me to see the broken windshield of the car on the news. I read the newspaper, but where do I stop. I find it too difficult to read in the paper about blood on the snow bank and know that it’s Matthew’s. It’s so challenging to take in this information. I feel like saying no… I’m not going to take that information in, it just hurts too damn much, but unfortunately my mind doesn’t work that way.
I find that I am becoming obsessed with these images and I need to turn off my brain’s switch quickly - but it’s broken. These terrifying images constantly rewind and play, rewind and play in my head. My thoughts also repeat - this is my precious child - this can’t be - our lives shattered like glass. I’m overwhelmed by all of these emotions as new emotions continue to take hold during this time.
As a friend said to me the other day, “right now your grief is screaming with you - in a while it will be whispering with you”. I hold onto this as well as knowing that Matthew and I will be together again.
I just gotta hold on tight and keep pulling up my socks, right Dann!!
Today is my nephew’s birthday - Happy Birthday Adam. Adam looked up to Matthew so much. Matthew was the tall, cool cousin. What I remember of their relationship is that of brotherly love. When Matthew knew Adam was coming over he’d make sure Adam left our home with a little something, whether it was a dinkie or a movie. Matthew always made time for Adam when he came. Adam would follow Matthew’s footsteps. I can remember Adam wanted to always sit next to Matthew whether it was eating dinner or just having a piece of cake.
Friday, March 17, 2006: My thank-you’s…
I want to thank all of those who have e-mailed us with heart-warming messages. We have read them all. With so many being received daily, we’ll try to respond to all in time. Again thank you for your love and compassion.
With a great supply of tender loving care given to me by my family and friends, I’ll survive, but I do wonder where I’d be without them. Dad has daughter-sat me and Lynette has sister-in-law-sat me - that’s our terms for people who are staying with me during the day.
My hugs last evening from our support group were better than any medication. The phone calls from my support group outside the St. John’s area who called to say hello and I’m here anytime to talk meant so much.
The loss and missing Matthew consumes my time, but since the trial has begun, it inches in on my grieving time. I want my grief time for my grief only. My time is missing Matthew. I try not to let the trial invade my head. It wants to complicate my grief.
I also want to thank our family and friends who have been there for Rod during this last week. It’s helps knowing that you are there for him. I’ve been advised by my doctors and my psychologist, not attend for my well-being and health - of course Rod and my family supports this decision.
Love and Hugs,
Monday, March 13, 2006: How do you stop uncontrollable crying and utter heartache?
I don’t feel well - mentally and physically. I hurt from the top of my head to the tip of my toes - inside and out.
I prayed so much today just for a little bit of strength. I can’t believe this is my life. I don’t want this to be my life - I hate it.
I’m so tired of hurting.
Wednesday, March 1, 2006: Early morning it’s now 2:45am, March month, the month that I have hated for twenty-two years - the month that first caused me deep sorrow twenty-two years ago and then destroyed my world one year ago.
Everything is so quite with the exception of the wind outside. As I walk pass Matthew’s bedroom my knees ache and my heart hurts so much. How I wish that Matthew was in his bed sleeping. I want to be able to go to his bedroom and kiss his forehead. Something I did every late night as I checked on him. As a baby I would hold my hand over his back to make sure I could feel him breathing, and up to March 27, 2005 I would still stand by his bed until I saw or hear movement. I remember as tears pour from my eyes hearing him stir in the morning as a baby, when he got a little older to hear the pitterpatter of his little feet running to our bedroom, and to hear him snoozing as a teenager. All of this brought me so much joy and contentment since my love for Matthew was so deep. Yes, eventhough he was fifteen, I still checked on him in bed. I was his mom, his protector, the one who loved him more than life itself, loved him more than words can express, the one who nurtured him and the one who would have given her life for his.
Midday it’s now 3:30pm. I’ve even made supper. I’m having a better day today – I should say I’ve been feeling positive since I woke at noon. Who knows how I’ll feel in a few minutes or few hours or this evening?
Today I feel as if I could help the world. I guess I feel this way because it’s been so long since I have felt any optimism. I imagine what if I had limitless resources - I could help so many people. I have so much love and compassion left within me to share. I think of the people who never get to experience the powerful beauty of caring and love. I wonder how many children are out there that have never experienced this. My heart is encased with heartache but it doesn’t forget how to care or love. My mind is heavy with sorrow but it hasn’t forgotten the overpowering amount of joy that care and love can bring. As I look from the corner of my eye, Matthew’s pictures are in my view, and as I look at him he smiles back at me.
Thursday, February 23, 2006: I haven’t been able to much of anything lately. I was caught in a big wave of my grief – no shore was in sight. Today is a little easier to cope. The shakiness in my body has subdued slightly. I have been instructed to take medication for my health.
Dates – my life now has a dateline – my old life and my new life. My dateline is March 28, 2005. At work, as I look at the dates on claims or enter information into our system, I relate the dates to my before and after life. When I see the date March 28, I close my eyes and hate the day. If reading or watching TV conveys different events from the past, these events now represent that dateline – was it before Matthew’s passing or after Matthew’s passing.
In six days the month of March will be here. A month I will find insufferable. It will be one year that Matthew has been gone and twenty-two years since mom is gone. I worry wondering how will I survive this month, but as I think about it, I survived March 2005, there is nothing worse that is going to happen to me now. I can’t believe that I survived this long.
I keep having my recurring dream that Matthew has comes back to me. The feelings I experience when he hugs me is beyond words. There are no words in the world that can explain how happy I am, only that I could burst with happiness. In my dream Matthew is so close to me, he never leaves and he goes everywhere I go, but no one can see him - only me. I get so angry in my dream that no one else can see him.
My positive - I have taken the steps to join a gym with a trainer (….poor trainer, ha!). I need to get my health back in order. In twelve months I have gained close to forty pounds. Food in its own way has the ability to be a friend to me - it brings me comfort. I have not been exercising which adds to my gain.
“Birthday” for yesterday Wanda, and congratulations on your new job.
Monday, February 13, 2006: Emotionally and physically I’m exhausted. To breathe, to walk, to work, to listen and just to sit is an effort. I feel tolerable when hid under the covers in bed. My insides are shaking – my hands and mind are trembling. My grief is holding onto me so tight. I know Rod worries about me. I can see the concern in his eyes when he looks at me. I try so hard to keep my feet on the ground, to smile, talk and work - somedays I feel as though it’s an act. That’s just not how I feel.
I wish I could describe and express the inner pain but it’s impossible.
After writing this short paragraph, my mind has become a little more at ease, more than it was earlier. I sobbed uncontrollably for hours. Hoping that someone would just take me away - where I’m not sure. As my mind becomes more settled – I’m not sure for how long it will stay settled - unfortunately I do not have control of this either. I try to think of something ‘positive’. Goodness, I wouldn’t have said that word an hour ago. I believe for the time I have remaining here on earth before my time has come to be with Matthew again, I have to try to make my life comfortable. I cannot see peace or contentment or happiness yet – I don’t know if I’ll ever? So for today I work on the comfort. I believe that self-care begins and ends within ourselves.
Thursday, February 9, 2006: I know I haven’t posted in a while but I’ve had a terrible and negative time during the last week or so. I know it’s supposed to be a part of my grief… the waves, the cycle, the spiral, the ebb and flow. My journey on this path has been so difficult. I don’t know what I’d do without my guides (Rod, family, doctors, support group and friends). The path is dark and many times I can’t see where to go. I do feel sometimes as though one of my guides has passed me a flashlight to see. Sometimes the batteries in that flashlight are dull and I can’t see where I’m going; sometimes someone has to carry it for me as I take their hand. Maybe someday…I don’t know I’ll have new batteries.
Talking about flashlights, Matthew loved flashlights. He wasn’t to keen about the dark. I can hear Matthew now….“Mom, shhhh, stop” as I tell everyone about his love for flashlights and fear of the dark. There was always a flashlight next to his bed. The first night Matthew was at the Resting Home, Rod placed his flashlight next to him in his casket.
We attended a session on Monday evening on Healthy Grieving at the HSC. I’m so glad I went. As I read through the slides I had experienced all of the emotions and feelings. It was a reminder to me that I’m not losing it and I’m not going crazy as I enter all the stages. Moving one-step forward and falling back three, then moving three steps ahead and one back. That you can go from one stage to the next to find that you’re back at stage one again. Plus by going to the session meant I do want Healthy Grieving. During the session it also listed many “I know I’m doing okay when”? From the long list I could identify a few “I’m doing” okay items that I never realized I had achieved.
I try so hard to be positive but my mind and heart just don’t want to work at it most days. I’m not a counsellor but I truly believe that the shock and numbness is a layer of protection for your mind. And that protection is slowly being peeled off layer by layer.
We received news Tuesday evening that a friend - one of our new friend's in grief - was not well. All seems to be going well now and we wish him a very speedy recovery. As you are in our thoughts and prayers always.
Sunday, January 29, 2006: We had counseling Thursday; Dr. Khalili is another lifeline for me. We have been seeing him since April and in our 30+ visits it has rained every time we visited. I truly believe that the rain is one of my signs from Matthew letting us know that we’ll be okay after the rain.
Remember what I wrote the other day that I was more at peace - let me take that back for today. Yesterday I sobbed uncontrollably and I thought it might be another hospital visit with an anxiety attack. With Rod’s warm and caring words “we’ll be okay”, I knew he was right – well sort of. "Desma take big deep breaths and slowly", I was okay – sort of. Rod had to call another coach to take his place for hockey on his evening session. We then went down to visit Matthew’s resting place and we went for a drive. Then a stop to Michaels’ craft shop. I said to Rod before we went in “do I look okay” with a laugh and a cry - my nose like Rudolph’s and my eyes puffy. Our last stop on the way home - Swiss Chalet – I’ll soon have to look into buying shares there.
I’m struggling to find a balance, a steadiness. As the numbness and shock leaves, a new layer of me appears. Will I be okay? What happens to me when the shock leaves and I have to do this myself? I believe that the shock in your body protects you somehow. One day I’m doing okay the next day I’m not – I’m terrible. With that being said at one time, not too long ago, I lived minute-to-minute that slowly moved to hour-to-hour. Today, I can now say that I am day-to-day.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006: I found out yesterday that I have to have a procedure done at the hospital sometime next month due to blood work results. I know I’m just not taking care of myself. It’s the heart and mind conflict again. Intellectually, I know that I have to take better care of myself however my heart aches so much to see Matthew again that my health doesn’t matter. I’m not exercising and my food choices are crap. My positive I did take a healthy choice meal for lunch at work today while the smell of fries circled the room! I also exhausted myself with five minutes on the treadmill tonight.
Listening to the weather forecast on the news this evening, I could visualize Matthew being so excited and hoping that tomorrow would be a snow day. During the evening we’d track the snow on the internet. If a snow day - Pj’s on - our living room full of blankets, pillows and movies with the warmth of the fireplace. I’d loved being excited with him.
I get so absorbed in my own grief that I forget the world is still moving but at the same time stops for someone else besides me. Matthew’s first girlfriend, Jennifer, her dad passed away on January 19th. He liked to tease her in elementary school – he loved her smile. Also while at my specialist appointment on Tuesday, the receptionist spoke of her brother that passed away before Christmas. She spoke of the grief her mother is going through and that only parents who have lost can understand. As I left with a hug, I thanked her for our chat. That night as I thought of her name I made a connection… I remembered seeing his announcement in the paper I had gone to school with him.
As my time passes - I’m learning how to cope, learning how to exist with my heartache - I can say that I’m becoming more at peace. More at peace as I grow spirituality knowing that Matthew is in a safe place where he is loved more than anything both here on earth and in heaven.
Sunday, January 22, 2006: This evening Rod and myself had dinner with another couple - our friends in grief. We so much enjoy their company. They have become an important lifeline for me. They too lost their only child last year. We share friendship, a chat, a smile, and tears. I feel as our hearts also speak to each other, as we know the inner pain.
My days feel like they are attached to a yo-yo. In six days we will be without Matthew for ten months. Ten months not being able to see his beautiful face, to smell him, to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him in person. I still do all these things but with memories, pictures, clothes and his room. If someone had said to me eleven months ago that this was to happen I would have refused to belief and say that I wouldn’t survive.
I question what makes me able to exist? Why I’ am I here – for what reason now? I thought Matthew was my reason for existence. I try so hard to believe that Matthew is in the better place. He’s with God where there is no pain, hurt, sadness, or despair. But who is going to let me know that for sure? Why do I have to wait to see? Some say that your second or third year could be harder. How can anything be harder than March 28, 2005? What if my mind is being protected by shock and numbness? What will today or tomorrow bring - today maybe I’ll cry five times - tomorrow maybe all day. Today maybe I’ll able to spend a full day at work - tomorrow I won’t make it in. Today the sun maybe refreshing and warm to my skin - tomorrow I may hate it. What I do know is that my heartache will be here today and tomorrow. I think I’ll call this one of my question days.
My writing is therapeutic. Some may even question why I share. I share because I heard that people have be helped with their own grief, I been told that families have become closer by reading how close we were as a family, relatives away read how I’m doing, strangers learning what an amazing person Matthew was and caring people like to how we are doing. Plus I like to share – I like to help. Matthew had both of these great qualities.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006: I have yet another feeling that I have never experienced. It is happening mostly at work. I feel that I have become a burden and I feel terrible having to ask questions about pay, vacation and LTD matters. There are days that I feel like I’m in the way and there are days that I said whatever happens - will happen. Unfortunately bills do not stop coming. I’m now working close to 6 hours a day but there are a few days that getting out of bed is just not possible.
In reading one of my books the other night I came across the following article –
So you think you’re losing your mind – Because you can’t look at your child’s pictures yet”?
“This is one area where there doesn’t seem to be a middle ground; either you take great comfort in having pictures surrounding you, or you don’t want any on display. There is nothing wrong with either reaction. If pictures are a problem for you, time will be the answer. A few special pictures may then offer comfort. Trouble may arise when there is conflicting needed within a family or group. It is important that a parent who needs pictures understand that those pictures cause pain to another. It in no way connotes not wanting to forget. It is rather, just the opposite, the pain is there because there is so much love and caring.
Words cannot explain how much this little paragraph meant to me. Months ago speaking with another parent they had said they needed to look at pictures and Rod needed to look at them. But for me it was different - I could look at Matthew’s baby pictures but I couldn’t look at recent pictures of him. I did think I was losing my mind – I say to myself why can others who grieve look at pictures and I can’t. This truly bothered me for sometime.
Today, those recent pictures of Matthew bring a smile to my face and a tear to my heart.
Monday, January 16, 2006: I wasn’t able to go to work today. I woke up with a migraine. It was also a day that I needed for what I call my ‘alone grief’ - I needed to be by myself. To sit, think, cry, laugh, yell and throw my temper tantrum without someone wanting to commit me.
An old friend called about a month ago, I wouldn’t answer the phone because I didn’t have the strength to tell her my sadness. From the voice mail she left, I knew she didn’t know. We are not real close but have known each other for about 23 years. She lives away. I was going to call her back yesterday since I was having a positive day. As I was preparing what to say I couldn’t find the right word. Me - a grieving mom and I don’t know what to say. My mouth would not acknowledge to say died or dead. I even have a problem with lost - I know where Matthew is. Passed away – that’s what happens to an older person. I have an issue with killed. No longer with us sounds like he has moved away. Departed or deceased is not the word I want. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to say any of these words. When I call, I will tell her that Matthew has a new home in Heaven.
Time is my coping tool. To me time is not a healer – I’ll never heal. Time is my instrument that allows me to learn how to live with a broken and unrepairable heart. This is not closure because for me there is no closure. My heartache will always and forever be with me. If I could change my reality - I would do so in a blink of an eye, without hesitation, in a heartbeat. My mind travels in and out, around and through with what is reality or shock. The unimaginable, unthinkable and unwanted happened, so reality and shock sometimes become one.
Yesterday, Rod and myself removed Matthew’s Christmas tree from his resting place and replaced it with a valentine heart wreath and some heart shape ornaments for Valentine’s Day. Instead of doing our house, I do Matthew’s resting place. This is what I want to. To all of Matthew’s friends and ours who had placed ornaments on his Christmas tree at his resting place, please know that we have taken them home and placed them on our Matthew tree that still stands in our living room. To friends that placed gifts under his tree, we have them on his bed.
While out for one of our drives yesterday at Middle Cove, there was a big rainbow that arched over the ocean. To me a rainbow symbolizes a hello from Matthew, hope and life “after the rain”.
Saturday night I cried myself to sleep around 4:00am. Matthew’s face was so clear and near in my mind. I thought that if I prayed and wished hard enough I could reach out and touch him.
My positive - today is a little easier remembering memories without breaking down sobbing - there are still many tears. The warmth of all our memories is slowly bringing warmth to my heart but the memories are still overpowering and consuming in his absence.
Tuesday, January 10, 2005: After almost ten months of crying and counselling and trying to find a reason to smile again, I continue on this dark journey. I still struggle many days to get out of bed and question why should I?
The simple things in my life I remain to grapple with - to read a book, to remember a grocery list, wondering where I last placed my car keys, to remember why I walked upstairs, dialling a number on the phone and instantly forgetting who I was calling, even my thoughts become lost in my befuddled head.
Today at work the phone rang next to me at 3:15pm. With a jump I said to myself that’s Matthew calling to let me know he’s home from school. For that spilt second I felt my old normal and that old normal felt so wonderful – I want that life back more than my words can write. Back to reality, how I wished that was Matthew saying he was getting a snack. I realized that this was not reality and I knew I would return to an empty, cold and lonely house at the end of the day. I’m still not able to call it home.
I’m trying so hard to be strong on the inside and not fall apart. I know it’s so easy to do – fall to pieces. I need to look for the positive in every day I walk through because it encourages me to make it to the next. There are days that the negatives overshadow the positives with no brightness or optimism that I can see. But I remember my faith and knowing that every day that passes, I get a little closer to Matthew again. To me that’s all that matters!
Friday, January 6, 2005: I found December 31st the most difficult day of the Christmas holidays. 2005 was the worst year of my life, but for three months in 2005 Matthew was still with us. The next day I was going to enter a new year without Matthew, a year Matthew should have been able to be with us.
On January 5th I had a Surgical EP procedure. It was successful and the doctor performed a catheter ablation behind my heart. As I was being wheeled into the procedure room on a stretcher with a room full of nurses and a doctor, I was nervous. With a bag of mixed emotions as the procedure started, I lied still and prayed to see the bright lights and tunnel and for Matthew’s arms to be reaching out for me. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I felt this overwhelming amount of Matthew’s presence in the room with me. I know Matthew was there to guide me along the way. When I woke up in the recovery room, Rod was there waiting for me with a smile and a wink.
What is an EP Study - Electrophysiology Study?
Wednesday, December 28, 2005: Christmas Eve I went to bed at 7:30pm trying to block all emotions and cried myself to sleep.
Christmas Day morning – Matthew’s first Christmas in Heaven. I wished Matthew a Happy Christmas and blew a kiss towards Heaven. I was overwhelmed and lonely. I was hopeless and miserable. I knew it was not the way to help myself. These feelings brought out thoughts that I had in my first few months. My body felt like a ton, my feet as if they were in quicksand.
Christmas Day afternoon, Rod and myself made a visit to Dad and Helena and then to Rod’s mom and dad. It was so tough - all of us missing our important and treasured handsome young man Matthew. They see our pain and we see theirs. They miss Matthew and worry about us.
Christmas Day evening Rod and myself met with our friends in grief, Arlene and Everett. We went to the Fairmount for dinner and a movie. They relate and understand the pain, the anguish, the grief, the missing, the longing and the total unhappiness. When I’m with them I know I’m not alone because I do forget and think that I’m the only one that hurts so much.
Boxing Day I slept away the afternoon.
Today is nine months without Matthew – everyday that goes by is one day closer to seeing him again. Today is also Rod’s 38th birthday. When I woke up I said “Birthday” no happy attached!
I rearranged Matthew flowers and trees at his Resting Place today and cleared some of the snow, my hands as they always do trembling but gently touching his name carved into the stone, as I said to myself this can’t be real. I feel comfort in doing these things as I talk away to him and tell him about my day. I then try to imagine what he maybe doing today.
This evening I received my favourite Christmas gift this year. A big sloppy kiss from my 2-year-old nephew Thomas as his tiny arms wrapped around my neck he patted and rubbed my shoulder.
Friday, December 23, 2005: Today I’m feeling a little stronger. Is my mind getting prepared for the next two days. Who knows what is in store for my mind, body and soul as Christmas Eve approaches and Christmas morning arrives. I pray to Matthew and God to give me the strength to get through.
I noticed a beautiful saying in the window of a store today, “Jesus is the reason for the season”.
My brother Dann and sister Daina visited with us this evening. I thought I would constantly cry and fall apart but I surprised myself – I did okay. Knowing that this would be our Christmas visit this year. Boxing Day was the day for the Pugh family to gather for Christmas at our home. It was like another Christmas Day for the children. We loved the togetherness, laughs, smiles and stories. Of course many other days throughout the year were like this but Boxing Day was a tradition. This year Boxing Day I will go into hiding. Maybe next year I’ll try as this day holds beautiful memories. I’m so glad that Dann and Daina planned their visit this way for this year – I know they understand and always will. I love you guys so much!
The girls at work Donna, Bridget and Sandra gave me a beautiful angel poem and a card. I thank them so much. It wasn’t a Christmas card but a card to say that they think of me and will not forget and that they will always be there for me. True and wonderful friends!!
Arriving today in the mail were two beautiful glass angels – one pink and one purple. Thank you so much Corinne from Harbour Grace. Thank-you to the kindness of a stranger!!
Many cards from strangers, other parents who have lost a child, friends and family. We have read them all. They have touched our hearts so much. Thank you!
It seems that my reactions became their reactions for my family and friends. I struggle to be strong. They see my outside with a smile – I have noticed that they smile. If I’m crying they join me in crying. If I laugh I can see their comfort level as being relaxed and share in my laugh.
I’m working so hard on this grief…I know that I have to make the decision to feel better. I’m still working with the two me’s – the outside me and the inside me. Slowly the inside me is catching up with the outside me. I do know that they will never be the same. For the inside me will always carry a broken heart. A heart that will never mend and one beyond repair. As my repair kit awaits for me in Heaven.
Monday, December 19, 2005: Today it my nephews Jake’s 6th birthday – my sister Daina had his party last month. He was able to enjoy his gifts a month before his Christmas gifts. Happy Birthday Jake!!
We had two different messages today – both bringing different emotions for me. Our sad message is that my step-mom Helena’s mother passed away today. Our happy is that Rod’s sister Lynette is pregnant. She lost her first baby shortly after Matthew’s funeral. With these messages, it’s so difficult to express emotion. I’m already sad and I find it so difficult to be happy. This time for Lynette, I was able to show a little smile.
Hockey Day in Canada is coming up soon – Saturday, January 7. Rod and myself have just finished doing an interview with CBC Sports that will be shown as a special segment during the Hockey Day in Canada programming. I know Matthew is so proud that CBC’s story is about him. Matthew loved the game - the sport. He loved it for the friendships, family time with him and his Dad and for the workout. To Matthew it never really mattered who won or lost. Hockey was a big activity for our family. The Saturday Night tradition at our house was Hockey Night in Canada and homemade pizza. Matthew and usually a friend or two, would cheer on the Leafs. In 2003, on a family vacation to Toronto, the highlight of the trip for Matthew was to see the Air Canada Center, and having a family picture taken just outside the Leafs dressing room. He also got to see the room where “Coach’s Corner with Don Cherry” is recorded. Matthew very much enjoyed Ron and Don on Saturday evenings. Every year Matthew’s Christmas gift to his dad was one of Don Cherry’s DVDs. They loved to watch them over and over again. This Christmas there will be no DVD’s. When Matthew passed away, his casket had four hockey skates on each corner and laid on top were blue and white flowers with a Toronto Maple Leafs flag. At his funeral was a three-hockey-team honour guard. As Matthew’s casket was leaving the church, the hockey players tapped the floor in his honour. We know Matthew was smiling from above.
Thursday, December 15, 2005: How I long to feel Matthew’ hug around me, his gentle kiss on my cheek, and his warm smile to brighten my day – oh to see him again, just to touch and hold him.
I feel absolutely NOTHING inside other than my heartache that is all consuming.
As Rod and myself go for one of our nightly drives this evening, the Christmas lights on all the houses means nothing. I can now only remember getting that warm and uplifting feeling seeing all the lights at Christmas. I try to sense that feeling back in my mind and heart but I can’t – there is utterly nothing. There are no butterflies in my belly this year.
I changed the batteries again today on Matthew’s Christmas tree and our three candles at his Resting Place. I believe the batteries are having a difficult time with the cold temperatures.
My Christmas shopping I completed in 2 minutes – all of it. Gift cards for my nephews and nieces. Our families understand that we only have gifts for the children.
My energy level is gone back to zero again these last few days. Rod is doing everything again - dishes, laundry and cleaning. We are eating out a lot too - I don’t mind but Rod would rather have a meal at home. I know this is another hill on my dark path – but I’ll climb that one too.
Monday, December 12, 2005: The rain and darkness today agrees with my mood.
A new emotion has found my being. An emotion that I haven’t had before - I think it’s called bitterness. Why is everyone so happy – why do I dislike it when I hear people whistling and humming – why do I get so frustrated when I see moms and dads being upset with their children – why do moms talk about what they are getting their children for Christmas - why do so many people put up Christmas lights - why do parents talk about what they did last night as a family and why are they are deciding what they are doing the weekend. Yes… it’s called bitterness. I know I can fight this one because bitterness accomplishes nothing. I will leave this emotion along the way on my dark path I travel.
The steps I take everyday - there are several backwards with falls, many with heavy feet dragging, some that are taken alone, while numerous are with family and friends. Countless taken with uncertainty and hesitation and immeasurably, ones taken with will and faith and courage. Too many to count taken with tears some with a smile and none with a skip.
The anticipation of Christmas was once of excitement, togetherness and enjoyment. This year’s anticipation of Christmas is of anxiety, loneliness and agitation. Not knowing what to do Christmas morning is still overwhelming. I know I need a plan but I still avoid many decision-making tasks.
My positive..…a few months back I told family and friends that I was not having anything to do with Christmas – there would be no tree in my house. Today I have a small, white, birch tree lit with white lights amidst the angels, butterflies and dragonflies and outside is our lit angel that brings a little smile to my face.
Friday, December 9, 2005: Dad (Poppy Brett) had knee replacement surgery Monday. His surgery went well and he is home. I can remember two years ago when he had his first knee surgery, Matthew, Rod and myself went to the hospital that night to see him. As soon as Matthew walked into the room and saw his Poppy Brett in pain, Matthew’s face turned white and he said, “I don’t feel very good”. We had to help Matthew into the chair. When Poppy Brett spoke to Matthew he regained his color and was okay. On our way out of the hospital after our visit, Matthew said, “Pop’s going to be okay – right”? After we reassured him – all was okay.
Rod and myself went to visit dad at the hospital. I still see the distance and loneliness as he misses his precious grandson Matthew so much and worries about his daughter. There was no look of pain after surgery. It remains the look of loneliness.
My heart and mind struggle constantly. It’s like their not connected anymore. Today I wonder again is Matthew cold and lonely? It’s a thought that I can’t help but think of – an unwelcome vision. With my heart and soul, I believe that he is warm and in the comfort of family and new friends. I feel like screaming, “please God just let me know he is okay”. It’s just one little question. Is that too much to ask? My heart continues to know that when my time has come, I will see Matthew again and our journey will continue together forever. I embrace and need my faith to carry on. For the time that I have remaining here on earth, I will try to do as Matthew did during his most meaningful life – shine brightly in the lives he touched. I can remember back in April at one of our first visits to our psychologist, he suggested a breathing technique called 5-5-5. Close your eyes and take in five breaths – hold five breathes and let out five breaths slowly. My first day trying in his office, I was only able to take one breath - the holding and letting out was impossible. I didn’t think I was going to make it to my next breath. To exist was a struggle and my breathing was a grasp of survival. Sunday, December 3, 2005: I bought a dragonfly lamp today - I call it my “I’m okay, mom and dad light”. The light shines a warm comfort to us. The story below is from one of my grief books.
The Dragonfly In a little pond living under the lily pads in the water, lived a community of water bugs. They lived a simple and comfortable life in the pond with few disturbances and interruptions. Once in a while sadness would come to the community when one of their fellow bugs would climb the stem of a lily pad and would never be seen again. They knew when this happened; their loved one was gone forever. They decided that the next one to go, would come back to tell the others. About a week later one of the water bugs had emerged on the other side – on top of the water. As he sat there his body changed he had turned into a beautiful blue tailed dragonfly with four broad wings and a body designed for flying. So, fly he did! And as he soared he saw the beauty of a whole new world and a far superior way of life to what he had never known existed. Then he remembered his bug friends and how they were thinking by now he was dead. He wanted to go back to tell them and explain to them that he was now more alive than he had ever been before. His life had been fulfilled rather than ended. But, his new body would not go down into the water, try as he did he could not return. He could not get back to tell his friends the good news. Then he understood that their time would come when they too would know what he now knew. He took off in flight, doing loops and spins through the sunlit sky flew in a joyous new life - free as the wind!
Friday, December 2, 2005: I had to go see a specialist on Wednesday due to some blood tests I had done a little while ago and some of my results were not good. The outcome of the visit…lose weight. When the doctor asked me to step on the scales I thought "Oh No" when he said my weight out loud. I wanted to know if someone else was stood on the scales with me. I’ve gained 35+ pounds and I guess depression really likes my waistline. I just do not have the energy to exercise any more and all I eat is crap. Many nights I’m sat on my bed by 7:00pm with all my snacks spread-out before me. I know what I have to do but then I think does it really matter - NO - then I hear a soft voice – "Mom, come on you were so active - you can do it again".
My confidence and trust in the world is slowly being restored. At one point, I hated this world I was living in and I hated everything about it. Over the last eight months, there have been so many beautiful people that have showed us support and care. Through my writings, I have written about some of these people along the way. In the last few months we have been sent flowers from Edmonton; a beautiful CD from Bridgeport; hundreds of touching cards from all over; Rod has spoken with a man from Shearstown who asked if we would mind if he could supply all the flowers for Matthew’s Resting Place next year; another man from Bell Island has asked if we would like to have Matthew’s portrait painted; a poem was given to Rod's mom by a lady from Torbay for us called One Day Less (I'll post it in the Expressive Writings section of the website soon); we received a book on Loss and a CD from Ontario - the list just goes on and on.
I have a Christmas tree with purple (Matt’s color) bows on his Resting Place and three lit candles on his monument. Please click on the Resting Place to see some photos.
We have a beautiful Angel on our front deck that is all lit up - it will be our only Christmas decorations on the house this year. We have so many beautiful comments on him.
We are helping out a family this Christmas and this brings me comfort. Knowing that in a small way I’m helping someone. Because for the last eight months others have been helping me.
Monday, November 28, 2005: Eight months today. I’m no good at this grief work, its just to difficult. Today I feel like someone should take me and commit me somewhere. I never slept at all last night and 4:00 this morning I had a bursting migraine. It’s very challenging throwing up and sobbing at the same time. Rod is staying home with me today.
Yesterday was the first birthday party I attended – my nephew Jake’s 6th birthday. His birthday is December 19; his mom, my sister Daina, has it early so he is able to celebrate and enjoy his birthday gifts separate from his Christmas gifts. Up to yesterday, Rod and myself would drop off the birthday card and leave. No one knows how hard I found yesterday. As everyone in the room sang Happy Birthday, I felt like an outsider – my most important person wasn’t there. Everyone was there with there own families and I was by myself. I wanted to run to the bathroom and cry but I knew everyone would have followed me and I didn’t want to ruin Jake’s special day. I know my family understands and are always there for me. Again I left with my happy face but my real face took over as soon as I left the party. I wasn’t ten feet away from Dad’s house when I had to pull over the car and cry.
Matthew and myself would have had the house decorated for Christmas by now. Matthew was the one to bring up all the decorations from the basement. He was the one with the muscles to put the tree together. We’d turn on the movie Home Alone and listen to Christmas music and decorate. He loved Christmas so much. Even at age fifteen he enjoyed baking Christmas cakes. I wasn’t allowed to do anything – he wanted to do it all. After the cakes were baked he’d give them away. Our baking was usually done on school nights and on those nights there was no time wasted in getting the homework done.
Matthew’s is so vivid in my mind – tall, handsome, blond hair, bright blue eyes, his contagious and warm smile, broad shoulders, size ten feet and even his mole on his hand is so clear. Matthew was just starting to shave; his shaving cream still sits on the bathroom shelf. I can smell him as if he was sat next to me. I can remember when Matthew was about five, Rod had to take Matthew to the Janeway for an x-ray. While they were getting his x-ray taken, Matthew said, “Dad it’s ok - I can smell mom”. I now know what that meant – I wasn’t there physically but I was spirituality. Just like I can smell Matthew today.
Friday, November 25, 2005: Last Sunday my sister Daina, and my nephews Adam and Jake were going to a movie and invited me along. I had advance notice and I told Daina I’d let her know. I wanted to go but the thought of sitting still for two hours and not being able to cry if I needed to plus the close crowd factor made me anxious -maybe next time.
Wednesday, Rod, Dad and myself met with Dr. Nicholls at MUN Botanical Gardens. We are going to be planting a beautiful, unique and special tree in the botanical garden in Matthew’s memory. The tree will be planted in the spring at the front entrance of the garden. Projects that honour Matthew’s memory is very important to me. When Matthew was younger we enjoyed many Sunday afternoons walking through the Botanical Gardens.
I see and notice meaning in certain things that are happening. It’s November – wintry weather and there are flowers still in bloom in Matt’s garden. Blue Jays nest in the tree just outside our kitchen window - Matthew loved the Blue Jays baseball team. Matthew’s cat Scooter is so affectionate to me - she only had time for Matthew. She now sits tight to my arm as I type. When I’m in bed she is by my feet and when I cry she cuddles her head into mine. The streetlight that comes on and goes off after we pass it as we drive by it in Portugal Cove. Last Saturday my sister–in-law Lynette, and myself went into Bowring’s. On a stand of Christmas decorations was the most beautiful angel decoration I have ever seen. It was by itself on a lower rack. As I held it in my hands Lynette and myself searched the store for another one for Lynette but it was the only one left. Thinking it maybe out of my price range I still needed it. As the lady checked it out, it was 50% off. This happened again in a different store with my outside Christmas angel. Is this my hopelessness turning to hope?
It’s November the 25th, one month till Christmas and I’m wondering how I’m going to survive. But as I think about it…I’ve continued to exist since March 28th - the worst day of my life - the day Matthew died and the day I died inside.
My positive for today I still have a strong desire to want to help others. I know I’m almost there. I continue to get closer each day. I’m calling places for information and trying to picture myself there. That’s a big step.
Morgan we are thinking about you. Get well soon!!
Thursday, November 17, 2005: Today is my nephew Devan’s 10th birthday. I know that he finds it so difficult. We haven’t seen him, his dad Garry and sister Adrianna since last summer. They live in Sherwood Park, Alberta. Wanda came home when Matthew passed away. Summer 2004 I can remember Devan following Matthew everywhere. I’m so happy that we decided to have Matthew, Devan and Adrianna’s portraits done together while they were home.
We had a piece of mail come today for Matthew. I can’t explain how troublesome this little piece of paper was to open. My hands shaking and my eyes blurred with tears - saying to myself “God, don’t you know hard this is!” Inside was his membership as a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs.
Grief is like a snowflake – it’s individualistic and our own. I’m learning how to cope in my new world as Rod is learning how to cope in his. We recognize that we are going to be different in our coping ways and that we have become different people. I’m thankful someone had informed us of this from the beginning. This was something I was unaware of – grief is something that is not taught. When my Mom passed away in 1984 (I was sixteen) my heart was broken, my Dad was there to pick up the pieces. I truly loved my mom with all my heart and soul but the loss of Matthew does not compare – a different snowflake.
Monday, November 14, 2005: I’m still learning to cope with my missing and grief because time does not, and will not, heal me.
On Saturday, I had another terrible and rough day. I never slept at all Friday night and all I wanted to do was cry. I find it so difficult now that Christmas items are displayed in all the stores. I try so hard to walk pass and not look, but before I know it, I’m down the aisles looking at the angel decorations. My heart sinks, legs shake, tears on the inside and a lump in my throat as I look around. I’m missing the most important person in my life. I think how I’m going to get through this. I’m also becoming so agitated in not knowing what to do – my heart and mind again in a struggle. I want to ignore Christmas completely, but I know how much Matthew loved and enjoyed it. I think about how Matthew would feel knowing that there is no Christmas spirit in his home. I want to hate Christmas because Matthew is not here but I want to love Christmas as Matthew did.
Saturday night when I heard the theme song for Hockey Night in Canada, the tears rolled down my cheeks. This was our pizza and hockey night. I decided to sit and watch for a minute. Oh how I miss my cheering partner, Matthew, so much. Rod you’re a good cheering partner but you’re too "coachy". I have no one to tease me about Darcy Tucker anymore. On Saturday night when Darcy skated by the screen of our TV, Matthew and Rod would tease me because he was my favourite professional hockey player. I can remember a few years ago when Matthew opened a package of his hockey cards he was collecting and couldn’t wait to show me his Darcy Tucker card. He teased me a lot because he had it. This card was wrapped and under the tree for me three Christmases ago.
My e-mails help me through this agony I now call “my life”. The following is part of an e-mail from Matthew’s good friend Kayla, you will see why it helps me through:
“I love going to bed at night at just lying down when it is so quiet and I just think of all the memories I have with him and all the talks we use to have, then eventually I will fall asleep cuddling into his hoodie. I always sleep with it. I find it more comfortable just to have something he owned to cuddle into to. I love it”.
Another e-mail from Matthew’s good friend Kerilynn:
“Last night I had a dream about Matthew and that really made me write to you guys. I really do miss him a lot; he was such a great guy. Everything has changed so much since his death. It's not the same without Matthew. But Matthew's happy and safe where he's to, and I know he's thinking of us all and he just wants us to be happy. Especially you two because you guys meant the world to Matthew, and you still do. I’m thinking of you both always”.
My positive for today is reading my e-mails that mean so much to me. These get me through to tomorrow.
Monday, November 7, 2005: The Two me’s…
On the outside she wears a hollow smile. On the inside she is full of sadness. No one sees her only me. Heartache is her constant companion.
She gets dress and brushes her teeth. But struggles to think that her feet must meet the floor in the morning.
She works for hours - can engage in a conversation all while the hurt inside is all consuming.
She can go to the supermarket for those to see but is followed by misery as she goes down the cookie aisle and swallows her tears so they flow on the inside for no one to see.
She looks like she has the strength to carry the world but she can barely carry herself for the emptiness is so heavy.
She can say good morning or good-bye to others but as she does every breath is strenuous.
She can wash the dishes but the only thoughts that flow through her mind are of missing Matthew.
There are times when the inside me thinks she can handle what the outside appears to be but she’s not there yet.
My positive for today is someday I know the inside me will catch up with the outside me.
Saturday, November 5, 2005: Thursday was one of my mini nervous break down days, family and friends know - she’s in bed crying and isn’t in the mood to talk or listen. There are many days like these. Some days I feel like I’m trapped and will stay like this my life time. But I know that will not happen - I’ve been there so many times I know.
Friday was a day of mending from Thursday’s state. I was more positive. Rod and myself had supper at our friend’s home - our friend’s in grief. I think of it as friends made through Matthew. I find so much comfort in seeing and talking with them. They can understand our pain and hurt. We share, talk and listen. There are so many times that I think I’m the only one in the world that is hurting so much who loved their child more than anyone or anything. But when I see our friends I know we’re not alone.
Today is my nephew Thomas’s second birthday. Rod and myself went over to wish him Happy Birthday and to give him his gift last evening. Giving Thomas his gift was extra difficult because it was the last gift Matthew had picked out. In February Matthew and myself were into Sears and as we passed the toy department Matthew noticed a ride-on tractor, he stopped and said “mom, we got to get that for Thomas”. Matthew was so happy we had stopped and picked it up.
This afternoon we went to the Bulk Barn in Mount Pearl as soon as I entered I wanted to leave and go to the car to cry. Seeing the rows of candy and chocolates I know would have been an instant attraction for Matthew. I could see his face light up while filling the bag.
Tonight as the snow is falling I can hear Matthew, “time to start waxing the snowboard”. I can see him sitting on his bed – smile from ear to ear, TV on, wax and cloth in hand and the big snowboard laid across his bed as he whistles away shining his prize.
My positive for today is I'm looking for a little White Christmas Tree for Christmas. This is a huge step for me because up to last week I was having nothing to do with Christmas. I was going to ignore or sleep it away.
Click HERE to see Desma's archived writings |
- Home
- Forever Loved
- What's New
- NEW....Grieving Hearts Talk
- Matthew
- Hockey
- Photographs
- Life Without Matt
- School Days
- Zero Tolerance
- Media Articles
- Compassion & Support
- Memorial Fund
- Award Recipients
- Support Group
Click on ribbon to send us an e-mail
