I feel like I’ve gotten weird and I know some of you might think that my experiences are desperation by a grieving mom. Maybe they are. But I don’t really know how to explain some of them especially this one.
So here goes.
I’m walking the dog on Wednesday around noon this week, and it’s like 80 degrees F and suddenly out of the blue I feel this very cold, concentrated breeze for lack of a better description. Probably more like a blast. And then it’s gone.
I bet I am not the first mom to write their child in heaven. But this is my first letter to you since you died. I hope you get it because I am not sure how to have something sent to heaven.
It’s been about 8 months since you left us and I miss you. All the time. Every day. And I always will. There are days I wake up and the realization that you are gone just hits me like a freight train in my heart.
Charles was a Rap artist among his many talents. His notebooks and music were his salvation while he was alive and probably the only reason he lived until 20.
When he was away at a therapeutic boarding school, they did take his notebooks which made me angry. Writing is therapeutic. I don’t hate the school but I didn’t think taking his writing away because they didn’t like what it said was the right move. There were many good people who went there and worked there. It saved lives. Others didn’t make it. Some still struggle.
I know Charles thought this. He wrote it. And my wondering it is not the same as wishing it. I never wished it. But I did have this as a fleeting thought after a particularly difficult crisis. Was my intuition trying to warm me what was to come?
When you have struggled with a child’s mental health issues combined with drug abuse problems for many years –and you’ve watched that struggle, at some point, you wonder if they are going to make it.
The lack of support and search for resources is utterly and completely exhausting. You advocate and advocate … Read more...
Last night I had an unusual experience. I woke up from a series of short scary dreams. Not necessarily nightmares but the sort of stories Charles used to tell to spook me. When I woke up, I was verbally talking, telling Charles to quit pranking me because the dreams were messing up my sleep.
I was lying on my left side. Then I get this odd but pleasant tingly feeling all over and feel gentle pressure everywhere on my body like I’m being wrapped up in something warm and cozy.Truthfully it was the most surreal experience I have ever had.
Looking back after my son Charles Aubrey Rogers’ death, I see that he did exhibit signs of being suicidal. Of course I have often asked myself what I missed. I had been a mental health advocate and board member at Beacon Tree Foundation for several years prior to his suicide. Although I had been to one suicide symposium, I still did not connect the dots when it came to my own child.
Frankly, he didn’t check that many of the boxes on the list of suicide risks they presented that day.
Charles in Wilderness Program for troubled teens. It was here that we finally got a great diagnosis. He did embrace the program after 4 weeks or so.
I learned a lot about Charles after his death by suicide from his RAP diary where he wrote his songs. You can see his notebook in his hands in the picture on this page. Many of his friends know what I’m talking about since he carried them with him. They were his lifeline.
It’s in those pages I saw just how much he hurt. Every single day.
Those of you who have a child with special needs, mental health issues, learning or physical disabilities know how hard it is for that child to earn a high school degree. There are countless road blocks, problems, run ins with teachers over homework etc. Providing Charles with the support to finish high school was so difficult and expensive, it was a full time job in and of itself.
We enlisted the help of an educational consultant, Martha Kolbe who has since passed away. I would highly recommend that step. While we ultimately had to choose a boarding school, there … Read more...