2920

I love Facebook memories. Except today. And the 31st. The two worst days of my life. My FB memories this morning made me cringe.

Broken ~by Lifehouse

‘The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can’t stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
And I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you’ve already figured out’

It has been 2920 days since I’ve seen him alive. 96 months since I’ve heard his voice, his laugh. 8 excruciating years since I’ve wiped up his bloody nose messes in his bathroom that happened almost daily. Not very often would you see a 16 year old boy walking around the house with a tampon shoved up their nose 🤦🏻‍♀️. What I would give to scrub his gross bathroom…

It. Does. Not. Get. Easier.

‘I’m fallin’ apart, I’m barely breathing
With a broken heart that’s still beating
In the pain there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I’m holdin’ on
I’m holdin’ on
I’m holdin’ on
I’m barely holdin’ on to you
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I’m an open book instead
And I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are lookin’ for purpose, they’re still lookin’ for life’

May 9th I lost my sweet momma. I absolutely was not ready for her to leave and it was fast. I imagined her being here till she was 100. All because I am the baby and I only got to have her for 46 years. She and my siblings spoiled me rotten. Her and Zeagan were super tight. Those two were trouble 😵‍💫.

‘I’m hangin’ on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
And I’m hangin’ on to the words you say
You said that I will be okay
The broken lights on the freeway
Left me here alone
I may have lost my way now
Haven’t forgotten my way home’

My mom was on hospice the last three weeks. While she was still able to talk I asked her to do something for me. I mean, she knew and I knew what was coming in the near future. We KNEW where she was going. So I asked her a BIG favor 😄.

ME• “So Mom, when you get up there and see Zane, BEFORE you give him a hug…I want you to slap the shit outta him.”

MOM• “But whyyyyy” (very dramatically)

ME• “Because he left me!!!!”

MOM• “Oh! Okay!”

The night she died I literally had left her house 8 minutes before when Cheryl called me screaming. I turned the car around and headed back, called Joe, he grabbed Riot and hopped in the Challenger. Here’s where it gets funny. I ASSUME Mom slapped my child. Joe texted me to say the radio and cruise control would not work in the Challenger. Oh hell. That’s when I told him what I asked Mom to do 😂. Little punk was retaliating. Only Zane… because when we left Mom’s house later that night they started working again. Zane never disappoints. Just saying.

‘I’m fallin’ apart, I’m barely breathing
With a broken heart that’s still beating
In the pain (in the pain), there is healing
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m barely holdin’ on to you
I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m holdin’ on (I’m still holdin’)
I’m barely holdin’ on to you

I am normally not a jealous person whatsoever. But damn it I am now. My mom is with my baby and I’m not. So not fair. On the day she left us, as I was sitting there talking to her I told her how jealous I was. That was supposed to be me. I hope he is drawing her flamingos. I truly believe Mom never got over his death. It was super difficult on her when he died. Obviously I understand that feeling. Now my heart is more than broken.

This past Sunday was Mom’s 81st birthday. We had her “party” our at Buffalo Springs Lake, her favorite place. It was supposed to be a great day but…I won’t air the dirty laundry although I should.

8 years feels like yesterday. I wonder what he would look like. What his voice would sound like. What he would be doing. Would he still be in school? Would he even have gone to college, or gone on to grad school. So many questions. I shouldn’t torture myself but it’s just what I do. Eight years without my kid. Eight years without my heart and soul.

Please, if you are in any way having suicidal thoughts, call someone or the AFSP hotline.
1-800-273-8255 or
Text TALK to 741741 or dial 988 #flyhighzane #suicidesucks