My son

[lisw50]

My son James died on Dec 23, 2010. His services were held one week ago today. I am pretty unstable at this point not knowing when I can talk or think or breathe without the overwhelming pain rushing throughout me. I can not believe this has happened. How does a young man do a days work, pick up his dry clenaing, buy his groceries, cook his supper, go to sleep and never wake up? There are no answers other than I know he had severe sleep apnea. It will take another month before we get the result of the autopsy. My son was 36 years old, single, and lived alone. His co-workers broke into his apartment when he did not come to work and the lights were on in his apartment and car snowed in. The Police had our phone number and did not call us for 6 days because they went on their Christmas holiday. My husband and I live near Yokohama, Japan. We kept wondering why James did not IM or call us, but after all he was 36 and had an active group of friends. I am fortunate to work for the US Navy and they trully have been wonderful to us, but I will have to head back to Japan next week. I just do not know how I will be able to get back on that plane and get on with life. How does this all work? Getting on with your life? Yesterday, we stopped at the military base to get groceries and I flipped out in the store becasue of the memories of shopping with my son when he was a child. How do I leave these memories? I know that I have to get on with life, work, and dealing with the pain, but it hurts so bad.

Leona

[westleysmom]

Dearest Leona-I am so sorry for your loss. It is unbelievable to us that our biggest fear as mothers has been realized, no matter how it happens. My son Westley was 20 years old, the picture of American manhood (if I do say so myself) and last January 13, he died in his sleep at a friend's house. He also had sleep apnea and hated his machine, at any rate, it was at my house where he still lived. As it turned out, he had a couple of beers and also took some kind of prescription (at least we think so) medicine that contained oxycodone. The combination resulted in his death 6 days before he would have been legally able to even buy alcohol. He still lived at home, and when the friends weren't able to wake him to catch his ride to work with my husband, they called us at 5:30 a.m. and we told them to call 911 and we would be right there. He was taken to the hospital where they told us he had probably quit breathing at least an hour before he was found. I tell you this to let you know that I truly understand your pain and your confusion and not to make you feel worse. That you were not notified for so long I truly can't explain or understand, and I'm sure it adds to your pain, as if the pain of losing your precious son was not enough. I have just been through the first Christmas without him and the anniversary of his death, which was really difficult. I got through his birthday last year with the shock cushioning my pain, sitting on the back porch, still trying to make a deal with God to bring him back. Your circumstances are different than mine, Westley still lived at home and was part of my every day life still. But I remember those first trips to the grocery, which were several months later because I knew I was going to meltdown at the store. My sister was there to buy groceries and send food for us for a while, and would still do it now if I asked her. I hope that you have support when you get back to Japan, but the memories will never leave you. I tell my friends who haven't been through this (if they care to ask) that my memories and my sadness are all I have left, and I can't let go of them. The sadness comes in waves, and sometimes there is a moment of peace, which leaves me feeling guilty for having it. Its the strangest sadness that I've ever had, only having lost my Daddy four years ago, the only person I was really close to that ever died. He was sick for several years, and old enough that he had lived his life, and I was proud of my Daddy and loved him with all my heart, but when he left, I was ready to let him go. He was tired, and sick, and miserable, and it was merciful when he breathed his last breath, although we mourned. This thing that happened to Westley, and coincidentally (I suppose) my best friend from high school, when I called her that horrible day to tell her what happened, told me her 19 year old son died the same way at a party last new year's eve, 12 days before Westley, was completely out of the blue and unfathomable to me. She and I have supported each other and the friends I made here in June at BI on the Loss of Adult Child thread have also been there for me since I found them. If you go to that topic and just hit reply, you will be welcomed with open arms by people who know firsthand your sadness, disappointment, shock and disbelief. They have walked where you are now and we cry and share our lives now, after. There is no other way to say it, but life as we knew it before is over. But life itself is not over, and that's where you need the support of people who understand that. I will never look at life the same way again, and I would guess that you won't either. But we live, one day, one hour, one moment, one harsh painful breath at the time. Some days its anger, some days sadness, some days a moment's peace and a memory that brings a smile, however brief and sad. I would not wish for anyone to go through this pain, but it still happens every day, and having paid the price of admission, I am glad that you found Beyond Indigo and hope that you come back for whatever it is you need each day as you adjust to this new life that we have now, beyond our beloved children. You are not alone, even if you just want to come and read, which I did for a while before starting to post. When I read, what I see is hope for some measure of peace, some release of the guilt that i feel that I "let him die" which sounds like I have a God complex, which goes with the territory of being a Mom. I wish you peace friend, and I wish you never had to know this pain. But we're here for you and for each other.

[ModKonnie]

My son James died on Dec 23, 2010. His services were held one week ago today. I am pretty unstable at this point not knowing when I can talk or think or breathe without the overwhelming pain rushing throughout me. I can not believe this has happened. How does a young man do a days work, pick up his dry clenaing, buy his groceries, cook his supper, go to sleep and never wake up? There are no answers other than I know he had severe sleep apnea. It will take another month before we get the result of the autopsy. My son was 36 years old, single, and lived alone. His co-workers broke into his apartment when he did not come to work and the lights were on in his apartment and car snowed in. The Police had our phone number and did not call us for 6 days because they went on their Christmas holiday. My husband and I live near Yokohama, Japan. We kept wondering why James did not IM or call us, but after all he was 36 and had an active group of friends. I am fortunate to work for the US Navy and they trully have been wonderful to us, but I will have to head back to Japan next week. I just do not know how I will be able to get back on that plane and get on with life. How does this all work? Getting on with your life? Yesterday, we stopped at the military base to get groceries and I flipped out in the store becasue of the memories of shopping with my son when he was a child. How do I leave these memories? I know that I have to get on with life, work, and dealing with the pain, but it hurts so bad.

Leona

Hi Leona,

I am so very sorry about the loss of James. There are many parents here who have lost their precious children and will be able to offer you support and encouragement and possibly some sage advice for your grief journey. When you get back to Japan, do you have anybody to talk to? Friends or family? We will be here for you and will listen and share when you need us.

ModKonnie

[shellyku]

Dear Leona - May I add my sympathies to you on the loss of your son. How devastating for you.

I echo the words of the others in encouraging you to come to the Loss of an Adult Child thread.

I read more than I post but it is comforting to know that when you do decide to post, the wonderful

people here hear you and respond with kindness and knowing of what you're feeling. My

beautiful daughter, 29 years old, died of leukemia in August 2010. My life, as well as everyone's

here, will never be the same. I'm trying to learn to live with that, and it is extremely difficult.

I pray for peace for you and yours, Leona. Shelly

[jtvt]

I feel for you. it is so hard to make sense of this, I'm sure. I'm so sorry. What I try to remember is how well our sons and daughters lived during life. It sounds like your son had a good life. clearly he also had very good friends who cared about him. I can imagine it was very difficult to head back to japan. am thinking of you. julie

[caudioun]

My son James died on Dec 23, 2010. His services were held one week ago today. I am pretty unstable at this point not knowing when I can talk or think or breathe without the overwhelming pain rushing throughout me. I can not believe this has happened. How does a young man do a days work, pick up his dry clenaing, buy his groceries, cook his supper, go to sleep and never wake up? There are no answers other than I know he had severe sleep apnea. It will take another month before we get the result of the autopsy. My son was 36 years old, single, and lived alone. His co-workers broke into his apartment when he did not come to work and the lights were on in his apartment and car snowed in. The Police had our phone number and did not call us for 6 days because they went on their Christmas holiday. My husband and I live near Yokohama, Japan. We kept wondering why James did not IM or call us, but after all he was 36 and had an active group of friends. I am fortunate to work for the US Navy and they trully have been wonderful to us, but I will have to head back to Japan next week. I just do not know how I will be able to get back on that plane and get on with life. How does this all work? Getting on with your life? Yesterday, we stopped at the military base to get groceries and I flipped out in the store becasue of the memories of shopping with my son when he was a child. How do I leave these memories? I know that I have to get on with life, work, and dealing with the pain, but it hurts so bad.

Leona

Dear Leona,

I'm sorry for your loss. Sounds like you had an amazing son. I have a very close friend that lost her son, he was 20. He went to bed one night and didn't wake up. Doctor said it was something with his heart. My friend is having such a hard time; Just like you and your family. I can't even imagine how hard it is to lose a child. I think the best thing you can do is keep talking and try and remember the great time you shared together. I know it doesn't seem that things will get better. They do get a little easier each day. Keep talking and try to stay strong. My thoughts and Prayers are with you and your family.

“Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”

[4everjoeysmom]

Leona,

I could relate to your story, specifically about the part of learning about your son while overseas, going to bury him, and then having to go back to your workplace and home overseas. I faced that very challenge when my son Joey died 4-1/2 years ago. I thought I would die, and my heart wanted to for being so broken. It was excruciating saying good-bye to my family and leaving AGAIN. But I did it, because it is what I had to do at the time. It was not easy in many respects, but in other aspects, it was easier---not faced every day with the haunting familiar places we shared back home for so many years slapping me in the face every day. But at the same time I missed those places, and I did not have the kind of tangible support system one usually has when in familiar surroundings. I have to tell you, if it were not for being able to come here to Beyond Indigo and connecting with many of these beautiful people who are traveling a journey like mine, I would have lost my mind and soul. SO my best advice for you, especially after you leave again, is to come and connect here. People listen. People care. And you can talk about James endlessly and no one will tire of hearing his name. In fact, they will speak his name often in love and support for your journey. You contribute as much or as little as you want and need at any given time, and there is always someone here, reading, sharing, relating, and connecting. It's a long, hard journey. But you CAN do this!!! I never thought I could, but I am doing this,and so can you!! Little by little, moment by moment, breathing in and breathing out, drinking water, eating, and taking care of yourself...these are all important things to do, even if you don't feel like it. My heart and prayers to you.... ~Claudia