Charles had a heart of gold. Yes, he suffered from depression. Ultimately succumbed to an addiction to heroin and died by suicide.
But the person underneath the illness of addiction was a sweet, thoughtful person who cared about others. My sweetheart of a child was imperfect. He was stubborn. He was his own person. I do wish he was here with me. But I’ll have to carry him in my own heart instead.
Some days my heart doesn’t feel sad or happy, it feels flat and lifeless. As if all the juice was sucked out of it like an orange.
It’s those days when I feel a bit dazed, confused, catatonic–like the walking dead. I know now that this doesn’t last forever. When I feel flat, it’s hard to jump start myself out of it and it’s best to just wait it out. It does pass. Episodes now are not as long as they once were.
Thinking about all the women who are grieving the loss of a mom, a child, a grandmother, a sister, an infant or lost pregnancy. And the ones who are struggling to conceive and are not yet moms–but ache to be.
Mariana Marko sent this to me from a trip in New Mexico. So sweet to get “This made me think of you” as it relates to this #griefheart project. There something very thoughtful and intimate about it.
I didn’t set out on this #griefheart project with a bunch of rules because I wanted it to take a life of its own somehow–to guide me kind of like the grief journey does. I am getting through this with the help and support of friends and family. And love these thoughtful “gifts” by message. Thank you Marianna.
Tonight at the Beacon Tree Trees of Hope event, we’ll dedicate an engraved brick to the meditation garden at Byrd Park in Charles’ name. It’s been 11 months since Charles died by suicide.
This brick isn’t just a memorial, it’s an investment in hope. My purpose for the last 6 years and going forward is to help children with mental illness get the emotional and financial support they need so that no other parent has to stand in the shoes I stand in now. That’s the only way my own heart can heal.
Some days, it’s a struggle to get out of bed and face the day. Charles is the first thing I think about in the morning, the last thing I think about when I fall asleep. Still.
But I do it. I keep that pilot light of hope lit by putting my feet to the floor. Some days are harder than others. Bright sunny days, it’s easier. Drab, rainy and cloudy days are more of a challenge. But I will get up every day because I have a purpose. And I can’t work towards that purpose wallowing under my … Read more...
So days and days of rain. I go to improv last night and one of my class mates says, “Did you see that rainbow earlier?” No, I missed it!
So I take the dog out for a walk today. Still no rainbow. But wait. There is one. I was looking in the wrong place. It’s not in the sky, it’s on the sidewalk. And it survived the rain? Yes, that’s a griefheart. A heart of hope.
Graffiti Heart – #griefheart number 22 My cousin Lee Anne was down at Manchester area of Richmond, Virginia where they were painting murals. I was with her the first day and she went back for day 2.
She asked one of the artists to paint a heart in the middle of his project. And so there is now a #griefheart in the murals near downtown that is Charles’ heart. Thank you Lee Anne for #griefheart number 22.
I had my Richmond, VA cousins over and made this cake. It was a nice evening. My cousin Mel just lost her Dad and instead of taking her food, we had everyone over. A piece of my heart will always be missing especially at family get togethers. Charles loved family more than anything. He talked about them here in this song called Family Matters.