It’s been five months now. Five months since Erik’s death. I still have a hard time saying that. While I know he is gone, it is difficult to accept. There are many days when I hear what sounds like his loud car go by. I stop and wait for him to walk in the front door. Then I realize it’s not him, it’s not his car, and he is never coming home. There are moments every day when the tears slowly roll down my face and a heavy feeling weighs on my chest. My heart is broken.
It’s Christmas day. Our home is decorated inside and out with ornaments and holiday trinkets. Garland carefully draped along the shelves. Four red and white stockings are carefully hung up. The tree looks beautiful. It’s filled with glass bulbs and homemade ornaments, some from when I was a kid. The tree sparkles with twinkling lights topped off with a glittery silver star. In spite of all this, it doesn’t feel like Christmas to me. It was only a few months ago when I
We all experience grief in our own way. I suppose some people can process grief more easily than others. I am not one of those people. While its only been three months since Erik died, I find myself wading through a riptide of grief.
I have reached out to people to talk to. I have gone to support groups. They all say the same thing, that this will be a long road and that I will never truly get over it.
Then I began to wonder how the different beliefs and faiths help
The palms of my hands hurt. Yet the scorching pain in my heart is relentless. I feel as if I am losing my mind. The hardest times for me are when I am alone. I become distracted, lost in memories. I try to focus on my family, my work, and household chores but it has become an internal battle. This feeling inside has been building and growing and gaining strength inside me for a while now, it has energy and heat and depth. It spreads to every part of my body. Every day I
After some confusion with my GPS map, I finally found the right building on the Hospice property where the bereavement support group meeting was being held. The first thing I learned is it’s not called grief support, they call it bereavement support. Does that make it sound better? Does that make the grief subside more quickly? I'm not sure. The woman hosting the group was polite and welcoming. She asked me to sign in and complete a few forms providing my information. Sh
Tonight I am going to my first grief support group meeting which is hosted by the local hospice. I heard it's a very good group. I don't know exactly what that means. I'm feeling a little anxious about it. In order to get through this, I need to be around other people who have. I hope it helps me. I have been to Al-Anon and Nar-Anon groups where you have to get up and say your name and explain why you're there. I am hoping that this meeting is not like that, but I suspect t
I had this dream a few nights ago. It was a weird dream. I was in an old fashioned home. The rooms were painted in dark colors. There were overstuffed chairs that filled the room. This house had large, heavy, wooden doors lined with thick wooden frames. There were a lot of doors. I kept opening them in search of the right door, in search of a way out. Like most dreams, this one seemed to weave in and out of whatever stream of thoughts there were swirling around in my h
My sister, Emily, wrote this beautiful poem in memory of my son Erik. I loved it and wanted to share it with you. #ErikHoxie #mothersgrief #grief #families #lossofachild #emotions #death #children #life
I think my husband is worried about me, seriously worried. Sunday night I was watching a show on TV. It was the last episode, the series finale. I was lying in bed because I had a headache earlier and just wanted to watch some mindless television and rest. The main character died suddenly. I broke down. Now I am crying, sobbing, curled up tightly, half hidden under a pillow. This pain is unrelenting. It is overwhelming. It strikes anytime it wants to and when it doe
Erik was only twenty, a life just begun. He loved his family, his friends, and having fun. He was not perfect, but none of us are. He found independence, buying his first car. Erik had plans and dreams, like most young men. He shared them with me, again and again. One fateful day, a mother's worst fear. On the phone his friend screamed, "QUICK, COME HERE!" I arrived at the scene, Erik's car crushed and shattered. Breathless and scared, my mind was scattered. Blue and red ligh
The other day I was out walking the dogs. I heard a loud car coming down the street. It sounded like yours.
I suddenly stopped and held my breath, listening as the car got closer and closer.
For a moment I thought I would see you again until the car drove on by. It wasn't you and my heart shattered once more.
I stood there in the yard, tears streaming down my face. This nightmare is still not over. You aren't coming back to this place.
My dogs stood by my side, prob
The day Erik was born was one of the two happiest days of my life. The second of course, being the day his brother, Christopher was born. These two boys own my heart completely. When Erik was born, I started writing a journal to him. Each entry started with "Dear Erik". In the beginning I would make entries every day, for example, Dear Erik, you smiled for the first time today. I wrote about the first time he sat up on his own, about his first steps, the first time we to
One moment, two weeks ago, our lives changed forever. It started just like any other Saturday, a lazy morning after a long and busy week. My son and I talked for a bit over coffee. He told me about all the things he wanted to fix and upgrade on the old car he recently bought. He was so excited to start a new job in a few days so that he would have some money to work on the car. He seemed happy. I told him I loved him and was glad he was back home, even if it was just for