The mere thought of death is scary to most people and it was to me too, until I was forced into a relationship with this phase of life we rarely talk about. When we do talk about death, it carries thoughts and feelings of darkness, doom and gloom, sadness, being bad, awful, something to be shunned, put in the closet and never spoken of. I am now discovering a different way of being with death. I want to start a more positive conversation about this part of our lives and I hope you’ll join me.
On August 3, 2018 my youngest son Dillon was killed instantly when he was hit head on by a drunk driver. Now, death is an everyday topic for me. Not in a scary sort of a way, but more of a thought process, a questioning, and a desire to know more about this event we will all face one day.
After Dillon died I didn’t even know how to deal with the thought of death… it was something that happened to other people but it wasn’t something I knew how to process. I was certain that it was all just a bad dream, that I would wake up from this nightmare, and he would walk through the door and life would get back to “normal”. I thought that I could somehow adjust the clock and turn back time to change the outcome that we had been handed. My husband did the math and it was 0.1 of 1 second that was the difference between life or death for Dillon… certainly I could change 0.1 of one second! That’s what my survivor’s mind was telling me anyway. It took me an entire year of this “wide awake nightmare” to realize that this seemingly simple task wasn’t actually possible.
It’s been just shy of 3 years since Dillon left this earth and I have been on a journey of shock, pain, anger, depression, judgement, anxiety, yearning, questioning, striving, searching, hoping, accepting, learning, processing, and understanding… or at the very least, opening up to understanding.
I want to share this journey in hopes that it might help someone else on a similar path who is searching for a way to survive this mind shattering experience.
In the beginning, I remember searching for answers to stop the pain. I literally Googled “How do I stop the pain of grief?” as if there was a one size fits all answer such as “take two aspirin and call me in the morning” and it would somehow go away. I didn’t think I could survive the emotional, mental, and physical pain I was feeling… I thought I would certainly die and at times I actually wanted to.
Grief is such an individual journey, but for me there is a comfort in sharing my story with others and listening to their stories in return. After all, isn’t life about connection? Finding others who share our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams and feel a comradery (and no, that’s not a typo) of sorts. So starts my blog on death, grief, loss, struggle, and discovering that I am able to live again.
I hope you will follow along. All my love, Mary
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Thank you Mary for speaking out on such a very personal tragedy.
I wait with anticipation to read your thoughts and feelings on a subject that isn’t always discussed. Thank you for sharing your emotions and feelings with those who will read and learn about your journey.
Thank you for your support Frank 🙏🏻
Mary I am in Awe of you. The wisdom and insight that has come to you in this horrific circumstance is something that a Mother should never have to endure. When Tessa died no one wanted to talk about it. I yearned to have connection and conversation so I could get all of the grief, confusion and heartbreaking sadness out of my body and head but it made people uncomfortable to look me in the eyes and see my pain and tears. So because I didn’t want to “make people uncomfortable” I shut down and stuffed the pain and sadness in silence. I felt ashamed about my daughters death in some weird way since people would cringe/change the subject because they didn’t know how to act or what to say. Believe me shutting down and stuffing it is dangerous. It manifests in self destruction and dangerous behavior when you don’t have a support system and someone to listen and trust to hold the space in this very fragile state.
Tears are running down my face now as I type because it is a release and I thank you for that.
You and I have had many conversations on death and now I feel like I am in a place of wonder about all the possibles of where our loved one goes. And also like we have talked about…I am not afraid to die now. Sad to leave my loved ones and my children but also curious and looking forward to when we can hold Tessa and Dillon again.
I love and cherish you and your bravery. Thank you for starting this conversation so we can be more open and vulnerable and not afraid of where our next journey takes us.
Tessa Ann 11-22-83 to 11-23-83 ❤️
You wrote beautifully. I am so proud of you!
I am on this journey too. 😔
It brings me comfort to know that you get me.
Thank you for taking us on this journey with you. Dillon will always be in our hearts and thoughts. I am so proud of you and I know that Dillon would be as well.
❤️
Your huge loving heart, and the words of wisdom that come from it, are a constant inspiration to live a better life while we are here.
I love you Betsy… you are so kind and positive. And I appreciate all of your support.
Beautifully said Mary ❤️. I look forward to following along and can relate to it all!
Wow❣ Thank you for your courage to be vulnerable and share your truth with us all❤ We love you cuzn❤
Love you too Tammi ❤️