Today was a really hard day. Yet I couldn't show it. Instead, I had to be "on."

And professional.

I had to represent the agency I work for and love being a part of in an upbeat, organized way. And I had to do this from roughly 7am-3pm. In other words, all day.

I had to do this in my role as co-emcee for our 2010 Staff Day.

And I think I owe all 260+ people that attended, an apology.

Because if I'm being honest? I wasn't all that good. Which isn't usual for me. Because in years past, I was, at least in my humble opinion, a damn good emcee.

I WAS organized. And PROFESSIONAL. And incredibly UPBEAT.

But not this year.

Although I tried.

I did. And I really thought I could do it.

But I don't think it worked.

Because I was disorganized. And forgetful. And only slightly upbeat.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't muster the energy to be the Hallie they have trusted to emcee this shindig many times in the past.

And I feel really bad. REALLY, REALLY BAD.

Because the Staff day committee, of which I'm a member, works their butts off to make this day perfect. And the staff that attend deserve nothing but the best.

Which I don't think I delivered.

And that makes me sad.

Because I truly thought I could do it.

But I guess I couldn't.

CJ's suicide really has effected me in more ways than I can list. Forgetfulness, disorganization and general lack of pep are sadly three that really caused me to drop the ball today.

And for that, I am truly sorry.

The rest of the committee members? Well, they were fantastic. And deserve a HUGE pat on the back.

Me? Not so much.

Let's just say when my invitation to emcee again next year NEVER arrives, I will NOT be the least bit surprised.

Tonight hasn't been a goood night either.

These damn tears just don't seem to stop.

Miss you CJ...with all my heart.

Just saw an advertisement for Cheez-Its and started bawling.

If a cracker ad in the Sunday paper sends me over the edge (CJ simply loved Cheez-Its) how the hell am I ever going to be ok?

Life is really hard.

Oh how I miss you Shmoops.

I really, really do.

If you had told me 4+ months ago that my son was going to kill himself, I wouldn't have believed you. I wouldn't have believed you because it seems so unbelievable.

If you had asked me 4+ months ago to describe what I thought I would have to deal with IF my son committed suicide, I'm not sure I would have been able to answer you. Why would I have an answer to a question no mother ever dreams of being asked?

But if pushed for a response, for an answer, for a guess, I probably would have told you that IF my son killed himself, I would expect to be miserable. And lonely. And terrified. And lost. And devastated. And crushed. And destroyed. And exhausted.

I would have BELIEVED that any word in the English language that describes complete and utter misery, would be a word you could use to describe what I might face.

And I would have been right.

What I would NOT have believed I'd face IF my son chose to end his life, is oddly and sadly and frustratingly what I am more so than not now dealing with.

Odd, sad and frustrating because I never thought it would be part of this process.

Who knew I'd have to defend my actions?

Who could have imagined that people would question how I'm acting?

Who would have thought that someone would actually think there was a right and wrong way to process your son's suicide?

CJ put a gun to his head.

And ended his life.

And altered our lives forever.

And I'm apparently NOT dealing with this life changing moment in a manner that some think I should be.

I've been told I need to CHOOSE to move on.

I've been told I shouldn't focus on WHAT he did, HOW he did it, or WHY he made the choice he did.

I've been told I'm fixating TOO much on THAT moment and not enough on HIS LIFE.

I've been told my thoughts are MORBID and not the funny, ha ha morbid I used to embrace here on my blog.

I've been told my words on Facebook and my blog PROVE I'm trapped in a dark place.

I've even been told to embrace life and ONLY concentrate on John and Connor and NOT as much on the selfish act of my firstborn son.

Yep, I've been told all of those things. And more.

From people both close to me and not so close to me.

And I find myself having to reassure these people that I'm ok.

When I'm clearly not.

But why the hell would I be?

Cuz if I DON'T say I'm ok, they continue to tell me 88 reasons why I'm REALLY NOT.

Do people truly think I want to relive THAT moment or replay THOSE details over and over in my head?

Is it possible that some people actually believe I am purposely holding Happy Hallie hostage? That I enjoy thinking the thoughts I think?

Can people NOT see that I YEARN for the day that I don't feel as raw as I do? For the day that my heart doesn't feel like it's being shredded and burned and slashed to pieces by a pain that is indescribable?

Isn't it obvious that it's a hell of a lot better that I AM writing (at least occasionally) about what I'm feeling as opposed to letting the hideous beast that took my son destroy me as well?

I am NOT suicidal.

Have I thought and wished at least once since my beloved Shmoops left me that I was with me?

Yes.

As his mommy, I hate to think of him alone. Without his loving family to care for him.

But does that mean I want to leave John and Connor to be with CJ?

No.

It just means my mom heart can't stand the thought of NOT having him with me. Ever again. My mom heart can't even wrap itself around the idea of forever minus my kiddo.

Am I in a dark place?

Yes. And I hate it. Someday I hope to find a way out. But no map showing me the way has been discovered yet.

Do I cry a lot? Of course. Hell, I'm crying right now.

My son is gone. My son placed a gun to his head and pulled the trigger and I truly don't know why. Nor did I really have any idea that he was hurting so much.

That alone crushes me to my core. And brings me to my knees. And makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry until I can't cry anymore.

I may NOT be doing this right.

I may NOT be handling this well.

I may NOT ever be in the running for "mom who dealt with her son's suicide the best."

But I don't know any other way.

God knows I'm trying.

But he also knows, it's hard as hell.

So Much Sadness In One Lifetime...

Opened my blog and somehow landed on THIS entry.

Reread it this morning and can't stop thinking about HIS connection to HER.

She made such an impact on CJ when he was just a little guy.

I truly hope (with all my might) that if there really IS something after we're gone, that SHE was there to greet HIM with open arms....and maybe some crayons.

You're never too old to color, right?

CJ, I miss you so much.

SO. VERY. MUCH.

Isn't She Lovely?

Little Miss Charlotte Marie

Amongst of year full of nothing but abject sadness and devastation, we thankfully got a happy moment to welcome Charlotte Marie.

I am simply crushed that CJ won't get to meet Sarah's little sister. He loved Sarah so much and I just know he would have smothered Charlotte with that same amount of affection.

Tonight, my heart bursts for my brother and his family as they experience the pure joy of welcoming their second child.

But tonight, my heart also aches for my child that is no more.

CJ, when you died, a part of me died with you.

The challenge for me now, is to find a reason to not go away completely, to find a reason to stay.

Cuz, honestly Shmoops? I just want to be with you.

Hijacked and a Mini Morbid Monday

WARNING: This blog has been hijacked!

Um, is this thing on??

Somehow in a mad stroke of luck I managed to catch Hallie in a weak moment and she agreed to let me have her site for a day or two. Yes, Hallie, the gal we know and love, let go of the reigns for a little bit.

So what’s going on here?

We all know Hallie is hurting very deeply. Like many of you I check my reader each day to see if Mrs. Twomey has had anything to say. What used to be silly and sometimes disgusting posts mixed in with heartfelt updates on her boys has turned in to a forum for her grief. And, like many of you I want to do something to help and show this family I have come to love that I care.

Although I’ve never met Hallie in person and live half across a country from her, the past two years have seen a lot of changes in both of our lives and demonstrated to me the power of our online community and friendship.

So, what are we going to do?

I wanted this to be a surprise for Hallie but in order to reach each of you I needed to post here (personally I think Hallie is crazy for giving me the keys to her kingdom), and then we post the details elsewhere. That way, if Hallie doesn’t want to know what we’re up to she doesn’t have to. But if Hallie doesn’t come nosing around for the skinny I may just lose my mind from the shock.

So, come over to my blog for your instructions.

And, in honor of Morbid Monday I give you: My bunion. It’s a far cry from a Hallie style Morbid Monday, but it’s the best I’ve got . . . ps I’m getting this thing surgically fixed on Wednesday!

Now, after you quit barfing - click over here for your instructions!

BlueBella

4 months have passed and in many ways, I still don't believe it. I can talk about it, I can acknowledge it, I can even describe what happened in detail yet I just can't accept that it's real.

People say they understand. But they don't. And can't. Which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing for them because they don't know what it's like to have their child end his/her life with a gun to their head. A curse for us as we're just so alone in our grief.

I still feel physically sick when I stare at my front door and remember that he WON'T ever walk through it again.

I still feel as if someone kicked me in the chest when I look at the end of my driveway and remember that that's where he shot himself.

And I still feel like someone is LITERALLY slicing into my heart with a knife when I replay those last few minutes before it happened.

I walk through stores or through work or just down the street and I feel like grabbing everyone I see. I feel like grabbing onto them and yelling CARPE DIEM.

Or CARPE YOUR CHILDREN as the case may be.

Cuz you just don't realize that they MIGHT be gone in an instant.

Don't ever take for granted the care free moments you have with your children. I can't tell you how I yearn for the giant bear hugs, the goofy giggles and the mile long smiles CJ gave me.

Don't ever forget how fleeting their lives CAN be. I NEVER EVER EVER thought either of my children would be gone before John and I. Never. They were supposed to live EONS beyond us.

Don't ever stop for one moment thanking your god or the universe or whatever all mighty being you place your faith and trust in for granting you the privilege of being a parent. I don't think I really GOT how honored I should be for getting to love and guide and grow my two boys until one left me so tragically.

I'm simply sad.

Not one moment passes where I don't think about my beloved Shmoops.

Not one.

"Something inside has died and I can't hide it, I just can't take it."

Can't stop singing that one line from that one Carole King song in my head. Not even sure I have the words right but it sums up how I feel.

Something inside me DID die.

A Sobering Realization

I will carry the guilt I feel for the rest of my life.

Although I die a little bit inside every time I think of life without my beloved Shmoopy, I still KNOW we made the right decision in donating his organs.

After spending part of today at the New England Organ Bank's volunteer recognition banquet, I realized that since CJ died, I haven't really talked about how important organ donation is.

I haven't reminded you all that organ donation saved my father's life.

That because of the generous gift one family gave to my dad, I've been blessed with 7 extra years with a man I cherish.

And that now, because of my son, at least 3 people woke up this morning happier and healthier than they were 15 weeks ago.

Yes, I still cry inside when I think about the recipients of CJ's heart and left kidney. It's not easy to accept that they didn't make it.

Yet we know we at least gave them a chance.

We weren't told how long these 2 people survived. Whether they died immediately or lasted for awhile. We weren't told anything about them except that they died. I'd like to think that perhaps they held on for a few extra days, allowing their loved ones a few precious extra moments.

Cuz precious extra moments are something that I would give just about anything to have.

If you are not yet registered to be an organ donor, please, please, please consider doing so.

If you live in New England, you can easily donate online.

Most states DO have online registries. You can check HERE to see how best to register in your own state.

Giving the gift of life is TRULY the greatest gift you can ever give.

May sound like a cliche, but it's true.

Selfishly, I would prefer to have NEVER known what it's like to be a donor family....I was MUCH happier merely being an observer on the receiving end.

But for reasons I will probably never understand (or accept or like), I am now sadly and tragically aware how important it is to help save another.

PLEASE consider registering today.

If not for you, then in memory of CJ.

We CAN all make a difference.

God knows I wish it wasn't my son's organs that helped another.

But it was.

And it remains the ONLY decision we could have made.

CJ believed in organ donation.

Won't you?

"DON'T TAKE YOUR ORGANS TO HEAVEN. HEAVEN KNOWS WE NEED THEM HERE."

Staring intensely at pictures of CJ does not bring him back. I spent 20 minutes looking into his eyes – directly into his eyes – wishing for him to come back and make a different decision. Come back and let us help him. Come back and realize that our lives would be forever dull without him. Come back and let me tell him how much he truly was one of the brightest lights in my life. Staring accomplished nothing. It just made me cry.

I find myself “looking” everywhere. But for what? It’s become a habit I can’t break. Not sure what I’m looking for. I go into rooms in our house and just stand there. Maybe if I stand there long enough, someone will come? People used to be there, at least for the first month after CJ died. I go to the mailbox and search it’s emptiness for something. The mail for him or about him has mostly stopped. The cards, the bills, the whatever. They were hard to get but harder NOT to get.

People have no idea how I envy the problems they have. How I yearn to go back to the beginning of this year when all I had to complain about was turning 40. Or that we had too much snow. Or that my dog wasn’t always as nice as we’d like. I read/hear/see what’s going on in other people’s lives and wonder if they know how lucky they are to not know this pain.

People continue to ask what they can do for us. How they can help. What we need.

Or tell me that IF we need anything or IF we want company or IF we need to talk, then to just reach out and ask.

What they don't get, what is impossible for me to explain, what seems to be an overwhelming part of this process, is that I CAN'T. And WON'T. It's just too hard.

Every time someone says something to me about wanting to help, I find myself thinking how nice that would be. How wonderful it would be if they just did whatever it is they wanted to do. Bake cookies for Connor, send a card, stop by, call to say hi, etc.

But only in my head.

No matter how hard I try or how on the tip of my tongue it may be to suggest something that they COULD do for us, I just can't.

Asking for help or admitting that after almost four months, I still feel as awful as that first day I saw CJ slumped over in his car, seems wrong. I don't think people WANT to know that almost 4 months later, I STILL see his head swelling in the hospital or his body twitching over and over.

I was always the one to DO for others.

I wish I could be that person again.

Watching John suffer the loss of his son and Connor the loss of his brother is the single hardest part of this journey. I love them both with every ounce of my soul and would give anything to lessen their pain. I'm so sad that CJ won't be around to watch Connor grow into adulthood. Connor is a really amazing kid with a heart of gold. I think he will turn out to be man that we will all be proud of. I truly hope that CJ will be by his side in spirit all throughout the days of Connor's life.

I want a giant undo button.

Takes my son's suicide to really show me what is and isn't truly important.

What is and isn't a priority.

What is and isn't worth worrying about.

Found out today that I don't have skin cancer.

But I do have what would have become skin cancer.

And it's on my face. And it isn't pretty.

It showed up right after my beloved Shmoops took his life. Has grown bigger and darker everyday since.

Finally listened to my loving husband and had it checked out.

Thank God he made me. Thank God he is a two time skin cancer survivor (two bad times) and knew that something wasn't right.

Because of his persistence, I THINK I am going to be ok.

They treated it and suspect that in a week or two, I should be as good as new.

Well, my face will be....the rest of me will NEVER be that way again.

For the next 2 weeks, I will look ugly.

I will have a large, angry, blistering/scabbing spot in an incredibly obvious location on my face.

No amount of makeup will cover it.

No amount of wishing it away will make it leave any faster.

Nope, no amount of ANYTHING will make it ANYTHING more or less than what it is: a precancerous nasty looking dime sized spot on my face.

But I don't care.

Cuz after losing my Shmoops, looking a little bit hideous for a relatively short amount of time DOESN'T seem like that big of a deal.

Maybe at one time it would have.

But not now.

Now, all I want is my son back.

I'd gladly have my entire face covered in nastiness just to have him in my arms again.

Sure wish wishing would make THAT happen.