Oh man I woke up early this morning so angry. I am angry at having to go on without Drew. I am angry that I even have to think about the holidays right now. Oh how I can list the ways of how I am angry and I just may. I know they say anger is a part of the grief but it doesn’t stop the fact that I want to break things. I want to pummel my hands into something and have the satisfaction of breakage.

A few weeks ago we found an old VHS tape of when Drew was little he was probably about 4 singing his heart out to Silent Night. Oh man was he a cutie. Unfortunately, I don’t have many videos of them when they were little. We were so poor and did not have a video camera. It was before there was camera on every phone and device. Not to mention I was a horrible housekeeper, memory keeper and all around lazy mom when it came to those things. I never in a million years thought that old pictures and videos would become my life line. I never thought that the only thing to hold on of Drew would be those things.

When Drew was heading towards teenagehood he had quite a bit of anger brewing in his heart. He always had issues with knowing his place in his dad’s heart. I would see him cry because he didn’t have a relationship with him. This was one of the reasons he struggled so much was he knew he was loved by the ones near but he didn’t know if he was loved by the one that was titled father. It broke my heart to know that no matter how much I did to help him he still struggled with it. On one particularly bad day for him I decided enough was enough. If he was going to be angry we were going to channel his anger in a productive way. We went to a boxing gym and hit things. We hit things with our hands, with our feet, and with foam bats. We hit things so much that we broke a sweat and made ourselves tired. We fell to the floor of the gym and looked at each other and started laughing. Laughing at ourselves and the situation we were in. As I was sitting there looking at my son I was so proud. He was so beautiful and glowing. I hadn’t seen him that happy in a long time.

It’s true when they say raising son’s is not for the faint of heart. I was put on this wonderful rollercoaster of ride. I was and am so lucky to be his mother. I think that’s why it hurts so much to be left standing with empty hands. I wasn’t finished with him. I had so much more to teach him. I took it for granted there would be plenty of time. No there isn’t. There isn’t enough time. The saying of it doesn’t matter how much money you have it matters of what is close to your heart is so true. When something horrific happens you don’t look back and say look at how much I bought them. Look at how many things we had. NO you look back at the stories and the love you shared.

So yes, I am mad that my stories of Drew has ended. I want more stories. I wanted to be able to tell his kids about all the crazy things he did in the name of Batman. I wanted to be able to finally see him happy and comfortable with himself. I wanted him to be able to call me and ask me how to make fried chicken. I wanted him to be able to come over to the house and tell me he loves me. Because I sure do love him and wish I had said it more.


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