Ok I am a bad bad blogger. I just don’t write like I am supposed too. When I do write I enjoy it. When I don’t I miss it. I don’t know why some time it seems I just don’t want to. Oh well.

Life has been a bitch as of late. But then in my life it usually is. I used to really enjoy living in a pressure chamber, but as of late it seems to be dragging on me. I am in a real need of some time for me.

Tomorrow Linda and I are going to spend the day together- but it is the anniversary of our son’s death.  So it not going to be a fun day, But I guess it is a day that has to be done.

Linda and I have different ways of dealing with grief. Her heart in on her sleeve and she is a mother who has lost a son. I hold things in-I don’t cry or share my pain, I put it away. Oh I deal with it-but I do it at three am when it is just me. Then I cry.

About a year ago I wrote the following:

When Linda I and first got together I not only found a woman who loved me I found a family. A daughter, a son, grandchildren- brothers and sisters and the whole nine yards. It was almost over whelming for a man whose life consisted mostly of homeless men and drug addicts.

Her family took me in without question or worry- they gave me love, all the love they had and took all the love I could give them. And for that this old man will always be grateful. I have been and still am the most blessed man on Gods earth.

One of those blessings (though I wasn’t always sure it was one) was her son Kyle. After about 5 seconds of our first meeting I became “pops” to him and we grew together. The vines of lives wrapped around each other and became inseparable.  I never tried to be his father, that wasn’t my job. But he filled the spot in my heart reserved for a son. And in the quiet times when we talked, when we were alone, when he wanted advice or just an ear to listen to him he would slip and call me dad. And me being the ole liar I am, I would pretend that it was no big thing-well it was.

Kyle was a troubled man. There were demons he just could not fight-he tried, Lord knows he tried. And we couldn’t help him. I couldn’t help him.

A few weeks ago he called me and asked me to get him back in re-hab and I did. We got him back with mental health and started the healing process once again, but after a few days of sobriety he decided that he needed to leave. Instead of just going he waited and came to my office to tell me. We both knew what was going on, and we both knew I couldn’t stop him from leaving. Oh he knew he should stay, he just couldn’t.

As he got up to leave I told him I didn’t want to be his pallbearer. He got that grin of his going and said, “Don’t worry pops.” Then he stopped, came to me, hugged me, kissed me, told me he loved me and said “Dad-it will be all right.”

Last Tuesday Kyle woke up- went outside and admired the morning- telling people what a beautiful August morning it was, what a beautiful day it was going to be.

That evening Linda called me to let me know she was at the hospital, and that Kyle had died of a drug overdose. Linda met the ambulance at the hospital, as she was coming over the bridge she saw the evening sky and thought how could this be happening on such a night.  She went into the ER with Kyle and was there to be told there was nothing more they could do. He was gone.

I couldn’t grieve then-I wasn’t in shock, I wasn’t surprised, I just knew I had to go to her. I had to be with her. I had to guard her, to hold her and to love. And she let me.

I can never know how a mother feels when she has to bury a son. Her only son. I can only wonder how this woman in the middle of her grief could pause and comfort others.

She would hug, and speak words of comfort to those that needed. She let others share their pain with her. She had patience, a compassion that I can only wonder at. Oh there were a few moments when I thought she was going to blow, but somehow she held it together. I have been told that I am a strong brave man-but I can never have the strength and bravery this small woman has.

I would hold her as hard as I could and as she would cry, racked with pain and tears, those big eyes of hers would look at me and she would tell me it time for me cry. I would have to say “ no not yet, not yet.”

I told her that I wanted to be a pallbearer and she told me I could. But she knew I couldn’t. She knew I could not carry Kyle to his grave. She knew about the last conversation I had with him.  So she arranged for a friend to take my place. She sat and listened to me when I got mad about it, and told me that she needed me more with her. And she was right; there was no way I could have done it. And so I stayed by her side and pretended that I was the strong one. And I held her and walked to grave with her.

And when it was over she told me to cry, and I said “no not yet, not yet.”

After the funeral was over we went and had dinner with some of her family. Food was eaten, drinks were drunk and there was laughter at the table and grief was put aside for too small a moment.

On the way home we talked about fear and being mad and all those things, we stopped to get the mail and while we were sitting there the song “Bridge over Troubled Waters” began to play. And boy did I about lose it. And she held me yet once again and told me to cry, and I told her “no not yet, not yet”.

I still had one more thing to do. I had to hold her as we slept, to let her be safe, to keep the demons away. I don’t know if I did, but I did my best.

I went back to work Saturday and Sunday-I needed to.

It’s Monday morning now and I am on way back to her house, there are still unfinished things we have to do.

And we are going to share a day or two together-mostly just us. To get ready for life again. To let each other know that no matter what ever happens, no matter what the world gives Linda and me-we have us, our love, we have us.

And no I haven’t cried yet, no not yet.

But when I do I won’t cry for Kyle. He is at peace.

I will cry some for me, I will cry for his sister, and the rest of his family and friends.

But mostly I will cry for Linda,

Baby I am so sorry, and I love you so.

The  other day I called Linda and like the coward I am I asked if she needed me to be with her. And tonight I cried. Tomorrow I will be her strength, tonight I cried for me it was selfish, but I miss him and I feel alone.

Today I will hold his mother and I won’t cry=no not yet.  Another three am will call.

And yes baby I am so sorry and I still love you so.