I wish I could talk to you one last time. I want you to know everything that has been going on and all we have been through. I want you to know what you have done to us. I want you to know how angry I am at you. I hope somehow, someway you see this letter.
The first week after you took your life I was devastated. I felt so sorry for you. My heart was broken, it took everything in me to just to crack a smile. I cried more tears than I thought was humanly possible. Your son was devastated, also. We thought about how much you have suffered over the years and how lonely you must have felt. We felt like we had let you down, that we could have done something different. The regret I have felt at times has been unbearable.
I really felt the need to do one last thing for you to show you how much I loved you. I took that need and put it into trying to make your viewing as beautiful as possible. I bought you an outfit. It was tough finding something that I thought was nice enough for you that was also thick material over your chest. I didn't want any evidence of a gunshot wound showing up. I framed pictures of you before addiction so people could see how beautiful you were. I bought white candles because I thought they looked heavenly and peaceful. I redid your makeup and hair the best I could with my shaking hands. I wanted you to be proud. I wanted you to know I cared.
Now, I am mad. How dare you do this to us?! You have put me through the pits of hell over the last 12 years and then you just copped out like this! You are selfish! You sent me a card on my birthday and in that card you wrote to me my birthday gift from you. It was your word that you would NEVER try to take your life again. That you were so sorry for everything you have put me through and that I can sleep well knowing it will never happen again. LIES! You always lied to me, about everything, I really didn't believe you.
I wish you could have seen your sons face the day of your funeral. It is an image that I will never forget. He looked so sad, so disappointed. He wanted to go search for you as soon as he found out you were missing. He wanted to be the one to find you. The thought of you just laying dead somewhere was too much for him. I talked him out of it. I didn't want that to be something he lived with the rest of his life. He told me he wanted to sit in the car you killed yourself in, he wanted to feel your pain. Are you kidding me, mom? How could you do that to your son? You have been dead for 4 weeks and 1 day and he has only gotten three good nights of sleep. His average is three hours of sleep at night. What kind of mother would do that to her child?!
Then there's my son. Your death hasn't been a huge loss for him. I kept him from you. I didn't want him around you, I didn't trust you. After you died I was reading his texts. A friend texted him saying sorry about your grandma. Guess what his response was? I'M GLAD IT HAPPENED. I WAS TIRED OF HER UPSETTING AND HURTING MY MOM! That makes me so mad at you I can't even see straight! You have been so horrible over the last several years that my son is happy you're dead. The only grandma he knew was an awful person that caused grief to the people he loved. I am pissed at you, to say the least.
I know anger is a stage of grief and this will go away. I know I wouldn't be so mad at you if I didn't love you. Of course, I love you. I want a do-over. I want you back. I want one more chance. I want to scream and yell at you. I want to march your butt into rehab and convince you to stay. I want to hug you and never let go. I wish I could have saved you, mom. I wish I wouldn't have given up. I'm so incredibly sorry.
Your daughter
XOXOXOXOXO
No comments:
Post a Comment