Where have I been? I've been struggling to recover from the loss of my only child at the end of January. I love to write but doing anything has been a daily struggle. It's getting better but I have a long way to go. He was 47 years old. So young but alcohol doesn't care about age or family or sensitive people struggling to survive in a tough world.
I'm not going to write our life story here. It's too much. I had him five days before I turned 17. I alone named him. I, mostly, raised him alone. His dad saw him twice after he was born. Abandoned by his dad (aka "sperm donor" as he called him) with a young mother without a strong sense of herself.
He's in his 20s in the photo because he never liked photos of himself as an adult. I have several in his 20s and lots of him as a child. No video. No voice mail. I'll never hear that voice again. I'll never see his smirk again. Emptiness.
Three months after his death, I wrote a chapter in a book that centers on losing him. The book hit #1 on Amazon. My chapter discusses finding healing in nature.
My son was my best friend. We talked nearly every single day. He struggled both as a child and as an adult, hence turning to alcohol to try to push down the rage, fear, and pain. He was a beautiful boy. He was intelligent, funny, curious, and loved animals. He was also angry.
I drug him all over the place camping, hiking, birdwatching, learning about everything in the natural world. He taught adults how to identify birds right alongside his mom. He got lost after being bullied in school. Back then no one took it seriously, including me. We all thought you just needed to ignore them or fight back. However, when he fought back he nearly killed the bullies. Rage and abandonment of a sensitive child.
I get up everyday and wake up remembering I no longer have my son. My only family now is my developmentally disabled brother. The loneliness creeps in regularly. Then I hug my cat and dog.
Eventually a book will come out- Dear Allen; Letters to My Son. My memoir and a tribute to his memory. I loved him more than life itself. Honestly, some days I just don't want to be here without him. Then I remember I have a purpose and I'm here to help others heal. I will heal. I will use my sorrow to help others find their way through this immense pain. And I will be okay-someday.
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