struggle

Dear Jakey,

I feel a little lame writing to you again because it seems as though I have only written to you when I get myself all fired up. And I really want to write to you all the time but sometimes, most times, I just don’t make the time. And I guess it goes back to when I used to talk to you about things that I really wouldn’t talk with to anyone else. When you were (and I guess you still are) my best secret keeper. 

It is funny how time evolves and how quickly things change. And I guess that is why I am feeling so unsettled. I screwed up my glute and it is messing up my routine. Maybe some of my energy is pent up because I really haven’t been able to run or have much of an exercise routine. Or maybe its just another one of these ebbs and flows. I end up feeling so frustrated that I want to scream or cry (or both) and I need to figure out how to gain perspective. I am so grateful for our JHFH families that we can support and who in turn, help me more than they would ever know. But then we can’t help everyone and not everyone is happy about that and that’s hard too. It’s hard to turn it off and not take everything personally. 

And I am like a yo-yo between utters sadness and anger. And I hate that celebrity death makes people so aware of real problems, yet the fact is that nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. And that sucks. By next week we will all have moved on to another tragedy and nothing will be different. And I wish that we could all get so worked up about everyday tragedies. About the no-name addicts struggling with the same afflictions, those that will never impact our lives in any way but whose lives still matter. And I don’t have the energy to fight that fight. I just don’t have the energy to make a difference. Life and death is just completely overwhelming.

But then I hate when I sound like that. And writing to you helps me get out of my own way.  And I love you more than ever. And the next letter will be a happy one. I promise.

Love,

Mommy

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total hodge podge

Dear Jakey,

Once again, way more time has passed than I would have thought. Much more. The last letter I wrote you was on the 3 year anniversary of your passing. Sometimes I call it when you left. When I say that, most people think its weird. I guess it is weird but I don’t like to say you passed or you died so I end up saying you left. Like it was a choice. I know it wasn’t. It just seems a little less tragic. And I guess that is how I live now. Trying to make everything seem less tragic because when I let myself think to long about it all, it really is too much for me. 

I wanted to write before Christmas, and I wanted to write on Christmas and I wanted to on New Years. Then I wanted to write on my birthday. I wanted to write about Daddy and how good he is to me. And I wanted to write about our life and how we do all these things but still wish you were here. It is almost like we desperately try to fill the void. And we sometimes do fill it but never for long because your loss hangs over us. Yet you are always with us. Trying to maintain sanity seems impossible sometimes and the struggle for balance isn’t easy. 

But what really prompts this letter is another death. Another celebrity death. This isn’t just about the passing of Philip Seymour Hoffman really. It is also about the ridiculous behavior of Justin Beiber. And everyone else that the media follows and yes, that I follow. I get so angry over the value placed on celebrities lives. And the fact that they are talented makes their death more sad to so many. I just don’t get it. Addiction, depression, all of it is tragic. Death is tragic. I don’t deny that. And in fact I get it. Probably more than most. But at the end of the day, if the same people who are so sad about another drug overdoes had to watch their child die, they might be angry too. And at the end of the day, we do make choices. And they have consequences. 

But mostly, I just miss you. A lot. And I miss my life with you in it. And I will never have it back and that sucks. And if people truly understood that death was forever, they might respect life a little bit more when they were in it. I know I do and I wish you were still here with me.

Love, 

Mommy

 

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