A parents worst nightmare is the death of their child. I am the embodiment of every parents worst nightmare. My son died. And as if that in itself is not bad enough, my son died by his own choice : he took his life.
My grief is complicated by guilt: how could I have not been able to keep him safe? Was I a bad parent? Was I too easy of a parent? Did I discipline him too harshly? Or not enough? I can’t help but to analyze every memory and wonder if I caused this.
Every day, I want to die, but I know I can’t. At least, not until it’s ” my time”. But the days, and the nights pass and I am still here and I really don’t want to be.
I have three surviving children who I love more than life. The oldest has children of his own. He is a good father and husband. The second oldest is single and I worry about him. The youngest has a life that I know very little about. I love my son who waits for me on the other side. I feel torn – Stay? Go?
All I know is that the pain that I feel deep in my heart is absolute and consuming. And I don’t know how long I can survive this nightmare.
For the Love of Sam 