I have been silent from many of you since December 2nd, but I have read all your comments, comfort, support, prayers. I have not missed a one.  Now I am going to speak out in several articles about my son and the disease he had, bi-polar brain disease.

Have any of you ever lost a child to death?  Through an illness or accident?  How about suicide, the worst of the worst?

Some of you have written me and told me you lost a child through illness. We have a commonality. We never forget that child, no matter what age he/she is. We grieve that child forever. Maybe the pain lessens over time, but it never goes away as some other parents have told me.  Your child is always your child and will be forever.

It is has been almost 7 weeks now since my son, Jeff aka BigPapa killed himself on December 2nd, 2008.  I grieve him, I still sob almost everyday. I miss him. I want him back. I know I cannot. He is gone from me forever. And how do I maneuver all the treacherous emotions of this?  

I received the phone call from my daughter in law on December 3rd who found him the night before in his apartment dead.

Ron and I were getting ready to go to Cincinnati to take him to his endoscopy on his pancreas. The doctors had checked out everything else, but Jeff remained in bouts of excruciating pain. The doctors were stumped, but decided he probably had stones in his pancreas or something else that was inflaming it.

When that dreaded phone call came in I can only recall screaming no over and over, then falling onto the bed hearing a far off moaning. Where was that coming from I wondered?  Ron sat on the bed holding me crying, saying no, no, oh no.

After that I sat in my study for what seemed like hours in complete shock, numb, could not feel anything. I stared out the window. It was bright and sunny. I stared at nothing. I stared at bails of hay off in the fields. I stared at my computer which I had just shut down trying to reach Jeff through email.

Somehow I found myself in a chair in the living room and Ron stood there and I asked him over and over, “How do I get through this one?”  I could not see how I could bear what now had hit me, coming out of shock, into the almost unbearable pain sucking the breath out of me. I sobbed, I screamed, I moaned, I rocked myself back and forth. Nothing, absolutely nothing could be worse than this. My son, my only son, my only child that I would ever bear aged 39 had killed himself.

This was bad for Ron too as over the past year he had gotten to know my son very well. They shared so much in common. Both of them were ardent gun hobbyists, they both liked to hunt, they both were right wing nut jobs as the libs like to call us. Ron felt like Jeff was becoming a son to him in some ways.

And Jeff loved Ron. He told me many times, “Mom, you got yourself a good guy this time, he’s the best”.

For those who say “take it one day at a time” are wrong. Those first days were minute to minute.

Ron and I did not sleep that night and since then we are up and down all hours of the night and day. Nothing is the same again. Nothing will ever be the same again. A part of me was ripped right out of me and my heart was broken into a thousand pieces and I still don’t know how to put them all back together again, if ever.

For a mother who has carried a baby for nine months, felt that child grow and move inside of you, that baby is always a part of you. There is a bond that can never be undone and this is something only Mothers can understand. Mothers love their children unconditionally. That child was a part of the Mother’s body and each and every Mother knows something about their child before it is even born. How it moves, how fast it moves, when it’s upset, when that child is peaceful and asleep in your womb.

As the days moved by, I started to receive comments from other TH bloggers, emails, cards, letters, gifts, prayers, books. All from wonderful friends at Townhall whom I have never even met. Some bloggers I knew better than others. Some not at all.

But as the days went by one by one just like the other, sorrowful and filled with pain, I would receive emails every day from people who cared from Townhall. My emails are the only bright spot of my days right now.

I thanked God for all these wonderful caring people who did not even know me except through the blogs. I want to thank each and every one of you for all the comfort and support you have given me for the past weeks. Without your caring and support I do not know how I would have come through this far. And of course with Ron who has been by my side every minute of the day. That goes without saying as he is the best of the best.

All your prayers have meant so much to me and have given me strength. As Crawfish always says, “Pat, we’ve got your back”.

Willibeaux calls me and lets me cry and vent and say whatever I want. He has been a God send also.  He knows the pain of losing a child since he works with vets and their families who have lost love ones in Iraq. He knows how to comfort and how to be supportive.

I thank all who have given me their phone numbers so I could call and just cry or vent. So much goodness from so many people from Townhall. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me. Perhaps some day I will be able to repay all of you in some way for what you have given to Ron and me.

Neither one of us have much family left so my personal friends and all of you from Townhall have been our support and our family. That is how we think of you now.  Some of you who write me I have gotten to know more and more and what really kind and caring people there are in this world. Sometimes with all the bad news we see on TV we forget that there are still many wonderful, decent human beings out there somewhere. And, I think a lot of them are at Townhall.

For those of you who email me, please keep doing so. I cannot tell you how much it means to me. For those who call please keep calling.

We see my psychiatrist who tells me we have a long, rocky, hard road to go down for the first year. And we are going to join a group for survivors of suicide. One is going to be available to us nearby soon. We found out we cannot join a regular grieving group as suicide brings with it its' own set of special problems and issues.

Meanwhile through another friend at Townhall, Bob’s my Uncle, found an online survivors group for me and I have met many parents through there who are going through the same agony we are. I have met a woman in Australia through that group and we email each other every day now sharing our sorrows.

Lucie, (Purplegimp) called me on Christmas Day; a day she knew was going to be terrible for me. She even made me laugh and was the one bright spot in an otherwise horrendous day for Ron and me. We were alone that Christmas, no Jeff, no grand kids, no tree, no decorations or toys under a tree. It had to have been one of the worst days of my life.

So thank you all. I send out all my love, hugs, and prayers for all of you too as you have sent to me. Only God knows how much you all have helped me.

Please forgive me for not naming everyone who has helped us. You all know who you are. And even Bryce, our liberal has stopped by several times to give support. That should teach us all a lesson too, not to judge someone just because they may have different political beliefs than ours. When it comes down to it, we all are humans sharing in the same bumpy and dangerous waters of life’s everyday struggles.

In my next article I want to talk about bi-polar brain disease which some know about and others know very little, if anything. Maybe, that way I can help someone else. Who knows who we touch when we decide to let out the secrets we hold among ourselves within our families for fear of humiliation or shame.

Peppermint and Gos