I'm sad. Sixteen years ago today, my boy was sitting in the closet at this Mom's dead. He hanged himself. We didn't get into the apartment until the afternoon the day after he was dead. He couldn't cope with life anymore, the addiction and the sorrow of life. This was the day I prayed in earnest. I prayed so hard hoping, wishing for his death not to be true. For him to be alive. I am crying right now. I live with the loss of my boy who was 20 years old. The praying didn't count for anything. My boy was dead. He his tongue sticking out of his mouth, black. The apartment stank of death. The way we found him was through having the police open the door. We stood outside the door like we were intruders. The cop standing tall by the door as a guard. My boy in a body bag with just his head sticking out, dead. It is called suicide. I think it was escape for him. He must have been suffering so much. And what did we do? We neglected him. We enabled him. We shamed him. We scolded him. We loved him. I need validation.
My ex-sister-in-law, her husband, my ex-partner (the mother of my boy), my wife, my brother, my cousin, My cousin's wife, the cop and the medical examiner were there in the little apartment. My boy's mom asking me to help look for a note. I saw my boy's suitcase in the bedroom. All of his life in that one suitcase. I have the suitcase in a closet in the basement. I have yet to deal with the contents. I had given my boy a nice Homburg hat before he had died. I picked it up in Gas-Town Vancouver. I thought it would be nice for me. It was interesting he kept this hat. Because I would take him to buy baseball hats. He would take great care in selecting a hat and making sure it fit. The sad thing is, much, even almost all of his possessions went to the dealers of dread, the drug dealer. Can you imagine how a person feels to give away all his possessions just to satisfy the addiction? The hopelessness of it? My ex-sister-in-law, and ex-mother-in-law never liked me. As my daughter has said to me, "do you blame them, you were mean to their sister, their daughter?" So it was strange to have them there at the bleakest worse time of our lives. They were there for my Boy's Mom. I need validation.
The next morning after I got up, I walked into the living room sat at the edge of couch, fell to the floor crying; "no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no." No amount of crying, no amount of pleading with god, to make it not real, did anything to make the truth disappear. I am not sure what happened next. The steps of funeral arrangements were taken over mainly by my ex-partner's sister. They made the choice to have the Wake at their house. Despite the fact they had no relationship with my boy. I just went along with everything which took place. I had no mind to think about anything but my Boy's death. It was early in the death truth and of what suicide did to us. My Boy was buried in the same grave site as his cousin. Sadly his cousin had taken his own life years before; the son of my ex-sister-in-law. I was not helpful in the services or planning. I was just there. My friends came and helped out. I need validation.
I have been a bad father. I have been a bad son. I have been a bad partner. I have been a bad friend. I have been a rotten person. I did try to be a good person but failed and failed much. I tried to be kind. I tried to be generous. I tried to be thoughtful. I tried to be loving. I tried a bit of loyalty. I was a human being. I need validation.
So what do I do now? I mourn my boy everyday. I don't mourn my parents or my brother or my friends that way I mourn my Boy. I do miss them and think of them ever so often. Many of the times are filled with a memory of good things about them. With my boy it is filled with dread and the end of promise. I feel that our kids, my kids, should be better than me in all aspects of life. That is what I want for my kids, my grandkids, to be filled with contentment, with happiness and a good life. My Boy can never have that. I want my Boy to be remembered. To be thought of with good feeling. I want people to know my pain. I need validation.
There are so many people I have tried to be good to; I have lent money, provided gifts, praised them, helped them, visited them, just tried to be happy for them. It means nothing. Either I do it because it is good to do or I do it because I want them to be nice to me, which is not right. No amount of people being kind to me back is worth anything. Either they like me or they don't, gifts mean nothing. So when they ignore me, it is because they know me and I am no good. I have done much wrong in my life. It has cost me. My Boy took his life. I know I had a hand in it. I didn't tie the rope, but he went through much in his short life and I am to blame. So I can blame the drug dealers, the drugs, the monster of addiction but still I have to bear the blame as well. My words, my talks with him, which I thought were words of wisdom were empty. Cliches maybe, I don't know. I just know he didn't hear or maybe I couldn't have said the right things. I need validation.
Life is a weird, hard, fun and dreadful road. I can say all sorts of things, which should make sense of the situation: "We have no control over anyone. Choices are individually made." It matters not. I miss my Boy. So much I think about joining him. Just when will I chose to go be with him? I need validation.