Good night my...

Good night my love. Good night.

It's like an...

It's like an earthquake. There was the initial jolt, then frequent aftershocks, then less frequent aftershocks, and now just waiting in fear. We all miss you.

Five hundred and...

Five hundred and twenty-two days since you left. I'm still waiting for you to come back.

Face to face...

Face to face would be nice
Again to dance with you
My sweet darling
Holding hands
Forever

The madness continues...

The madness continues. I don't know when it will end. I miss you.

It felt like...

It felt like time was coming to an end. All of the struggles involved in accepting the final days had been resolved, and there we sat, a group of us, peacefully enjoying drinks as the sun sank into the crevices of the darkening skyline. We laughed about things you had done, things you had said. A spirit of together held us in place this one last time. I didn't know when I would see everyone again, but I was happy being in this moment, no longer alone, for only a few hours, I was happy.

The words, "She...

The words, "She died," don't do justice to your passing.
The words, "She died," don't explain the sleepless nights, the nightmares when I do sleep, the hypochondria, or the anxiety attacks.
The words, "She died," are for those who don't really want to know that you died.
You know what I mean.

I just don't...

I just don't feel like I fit in.

Hi there, As...

Hi there,
As you may or may not have seen, I'm in trouble. Help me please.

Would you have...

Would you have loved me more if you had known you were going to die?

Control. From your...

Control.
From your death, I have learned that I cannot control everything anymore.
I guess I never could.
I can influence,
but I cannot control.

I have accepted...

I have accepted that I have changed profoundly, that I am a part of a small group of people who "get it." It's frustrating that life can be so socially limited, but I think I can help others who are on their way to "getting it." This is the reward.

Now, your death...

Now, your death feels like it was supposed to happen, unavoidable, essential for me to be who I am now.

I watched the...

I watch the pieces of hair fall onto the floor as the assistant swept them away. Dead pieces of me gone forever. Now if only it were that easy to let you go.

My world is...

My world is a bearable place without you. It has to be.

Announcement - Posting to resume on Sunday 13 May 2007

Please note that I am taking a two-week break from posting.

Thanks to all of you for visiting, contributing messages, and wanting to make a difference.

Posting will resume on Sunday 13 May 2007.

For now, take care.

Your fingers tickled...

Your fingers tickled me.
Your arms carried me.
Your mind protected me.
Your smells comforted me.
Your eyes melted me.
Your death froze me.

Remember when we...

Remember when we were kids in church, and you blew into that empty Chiclets box to make those funny noises? Priceless.

Hello, How are...

Hello,
How are you? Strange question I guess, but I have never been good at small talk. As you probably know, I hate you for leaving me.

I keep seeing...

I keep seeing
Images of you
Running,
Running through wind so
Happy,
Hair floating like a
Halo around your
Beautiful face.

Your passing away...

Your passing away used to control me. Now, it just influences me.

Like a musical...

Like a musical note, piercing and sustained, is the
Pain of loss, the
Fear of degeneration, the
Emptiness without
You.
Like gentle voices, piercing through that note, is the
Comfort of what was,
Before the madness, the
Chaos, and
Death.
Like a wind that blows all the music away is
Everything I hadn't noticed when
Life was a goal, and
You took care of
Me.

I am tired...

I am tired of people who keep asking me if I am alright. They think they are comforting me, but they really are making things worse. I want everyone to leave me alone. Why is it that they all think they know best? They have no idea.

If only you...

If only you could return, as yourself or as someone else, then maybe I could be happy again.

There is no...

There is no point in being proud of anything anymore.

You, alone, are...

You, alone, are my audience.
I speak to you.
You listen to me.
You know everything about me.
You, alone, hold the responsibility
Of keeping me alive.

You did not...

You did not prepare me for dealing with your absence. You never taught me how to deal with the business of life, and you certainly never taught me how to manage the business of death.

The tragedy of...

The tragedy of your passing is obscured by a circus of drama. People who used you in life now pick at your bones. People close to you watched over your wealth while directing your demise.

It's getting easier...

It's getting easier. I feel kind of guilty. It's strange, hey? It's like your death is pulling me in one way, and life is pulling me in the other way. But life is winning at this point. You always needed so much attention from me, and I still feel guilty for not having given you what you needed when you were alive. I was an asshole to you. And now I am afraid of going to hell. I guess the guilt and fear that stay with me is your way of getting back at me. Ha! I hope your smiling up there seeing me struggle. I'm just so scared now.

You were always...

You were always afraid to see yourself. You could look in the mirror, but what you saw was a deflection, not a reflection. Everything was someone else's fault. You thought you had it all figured out. You thought you knew it all. If you had just taken the time to look, to see why you were so stressed out, then maybe you wouldn't have had your heart attack. You ate, drank, and drugged yourself to death, all while convincing yourself that you were "just having fun." We tried to talk to you. We knew you weren't having fun. We knew you were escaping. Perhaps now, you have learned your lesson. Perhaps in your next life, you will know how to see, not just look at, yourself clearly. Perhaps you will be able to love yourself, and, if you're lucky, love someone else. And finally, perhaps you will be able to recognize when someone loves you enough to say goodbye. Goodbye.

I am using...

I am using him to replace you, and I feel guilty. You wouldn't have approved of this kind of behaviour from any of our friends when you were alive. I wouldn't have either. But I feel alone, and so what if I have to sacrifice a lamb who just wants to help me.

When she got...

When she got sick, you were the one who told me she would be fine. You were the one who made me smile every day. I felt comforted by what I perceived to be some superhuman wisdom that you possessed, some insider information that no one else knew about her condition.

But she died. And now you too have left us.

I hope that you and her can meet, wherever you are, because I am sure you would get along with each other very well. Both of you were loving, caring, and beautiful human beings.

Goodbye my love...

Goodbye my love. You have meant more to me than anyone else, and now I must say goodbye. I must let you go. Goodbye.

I wish I...

I wish I knew when I was going to die and finally be reunited with you. It would be easier to plan things. I'm just waiting.

We used to...

We used to sit in our family den listening to "Lovin' You" by Minnie Ripperton over and over and over again, singing the lyrics and challenging our vocal chords every time we got to the highest part following, "Do do do do do." Not only was the song an anthem for us as children, it is a memory of a great vocalist, who inspired the likes of Mariah Carey and died far too prematurely of breast cancer. You, too, died of breast cancer, and the song "Lovin' You" is a constant reminder of the joy I used to experience with you, my defender, when you were alive and well. Just as no remake of the song has been as stellar as the original version, no one has given me the colors and protection that you did when you were alive and well. I still hear the echo of your beautifully shrieking attempts at the upper registers of the song, as well as our uncontrollable laughter after the always inevitable failure of trying to mimic the exceptional range of Minnie Ripperton.

I have been...

I have been looking for the old photograph of you and me on the coast of Rhode Island. You were wearing the Irish fisherman sweater that I gave you. You looked so handsome. I'm wearing the sweater now, and I wish I could find that damned photograph.

Come back to...

Come back to me.

I wonder if...

I wonder if you've changed.
No, I'm sure you have.
I wonder if you have changed in such a significant way
that the light that shone in the corner of the darker pessimistic you
has receded so far that you can no longer turn it up and have it beam
out of you.
I just wonder how much you've changed.
I think I'm going to really miss you when I see you again.

Although I do...

Although I do not fully understand the actual meaning of heaven, it must be where you are.

I am realizing...

I am realizing that I may never feel safe in this world again.

You are lucky...

You are lucky that you never had to experience grief. I had no idea that grief would be a life long process. I thought it would be over after a certain amount of time, but it's not.

You have been...

You have been gone a year. And I have survived. I wasn't sure I would for such a long time. The pain was so deep and intense that I thought it would surely kill me. But it didn't. I know the pain is a part of me now and will be for as long as I live. Just as you are apart of me. I miss you, my love.

I feel so...

I feel so guilty for not having been able to save you. I could have helped. I could have made a difference. How could you have done this without telling me? You have left me in shame. I didn’t deserve this.

Would you have...

Would you have been a good father to me? I'd like to think you would have been? Would you have supported me when I said (or you discovered) any of the following?

I am gay.
I am a writer.
I don't want to go to your homeland because I hate it and, in any case, I am Canadian.
I love him, he makes me happy.

I thought about...

I thought about buying you a birthday present today, and then I remembered you were dead.

Hey Sis, I...

Hey Sis,
I think he's cheating on me. I found a receipt. I know. I shouldn't have sneaked around, but I had my suspicions. I asked him if he ever thought about having a fling, and he said, "No honey, of course not." Ha! The damage is done now, and I, a smiling woman, am apologizing to him for feeling insecure. Sis, I should have died, not you.

Dear Youngest Brother...

Dear Youngest Brother Michael,

It's been 12 years and not a day goes by without me thinking of you. I can remember when I use to babysit you all the time so that Mom could do the cooking. I remember taking you in the stroller for walks to the park with my girlfriend and even though I was only 14 years old, I pretended to be your Mommy. You had grown up so fast, I really don't remember much of your childhood years because I was married at 19 and lived far away. I'm sorry I didn't come by more often, but when I had my two children, Chris and Tom, I know you just loved to be around them. When you were 16 years old, you would throw them on your bed and play softball with them outside, nerf basketball, you could never get enough of them. When it was time for me to leave, you always looked so sad.

At age 20, the night of Halloween, you stopped in to see the boys and were playing with them in their beds. It started to get late, and I showed you a video of the Halloween party the kids had that day. You were mad that you had to work and couldn't be there for it. As you looked into the camera and watched the kids playing, your "laugh" will stay with me the rest of my life. It was time for you to leave, you knowing it was our last night together, and then I asked you what you were doing that night. Do you remember? You didn't answer me, but something told me inside, I knew something was wrong. I asked if everything was ok, and then asked you to be careful and that I loved you. We said our goodnights, I not knowing it was going to be our last.

The next five days, were a nightmare. My mother called me to tell me they didn't know where you were. Your four sisters and one brother all met at the house, worried about you and where you could be. I had work that day, but instead of working I was making flyers that read, "Brother Missing" with your picture on it. Standing at the copy machine, I broke down. That afternoon all of us went to place flyers all around the neighborhood on poles and in windows.

Michael, I don't know why you did what you did. We were such a loving family. I don't understand why you took your own life. We all hugged each other and dropped to the floor when we heard.

I sometimes blame you for my unhappiness right now in my life. Do you know that I am constantly afraid to let my children do things, because I think about you and I worry so much for them.

Did you know that your family is all separated now? Yes, your family has broken apart...we are no longer a happy, loving family. There are times that I feel so much anger inside. Why Michael, Why?? Why did you do it??? Do you know that I miss you so much. Well , the only thing I can do is hold on to that love we had when were all together...a happy, loving family, and until we meet again, I will never be happy.

Your loving sister,
always.

Too damn bad...

Too damn bad it ended that way.

I mean your end. Our end was good. You hugged me tight and said "I love you."

I told you the same.

You gave me the strongest hug ever and I was choked up.

He ran up for "..one last hug!" and you gave that to him.

Then you drove away. The car drove away and you honked continuously. Around the first street, around the corner and I heard it fading into the distance.

The boy and I hugged.

"That's just like her, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's her!"

That was the last time I heard your voice.

Hi, I am...

Hi, I am okay. I miss you. I love you. I am learning that grief is in a strange kind of way a lot like happiness. Like happiness, grief can be triggered by almost anything. The most intense grief and the most intense happiness are set off by the most unexpected of triggers. Anyway, I am happy, and I am grieving, all at the same time...still.

My friends Faith...

My friends Faith, Hope, and Joy have left the party. Now only Grief and Despair remain. I don’t know how to make them go away.

You had the...

You had the courage to face death but not to live life.

Dear Mom, Hi...

Dear Mom,

Hi. It's been a long time since we last spoke, but only a year since your death by morphine overdose. I won't say it was intentional, because I don't really believe suicide is. Let's just say that I miss you and leave the myths and controversies surrounding the idea of "choice" for the experts to dissect and decide.

First off, I'm sorry I didn't respond to your letters, cards, postcards and packages with gifts for me and Chloe. Instead of seeing them as a loving gesture, I interpreted them as a manipulation an extension of some kind of pattern of abuse, control, valuing and de-valuing. I was scared.

In fact, the last letter you sent, the one where you said your heart was broken and you wouldn't be sending letters or packages anymore -- that one I cried. There's a little tear stain on it still where the ink-jet printer ink pic of the candles were. I knew you meant it, and still I didn't write or call.

I was going to wait you out.

I wanted you to know that I was serious -- that I was in charge of my life, not you. That your methods of intimidation, guilt-tripping and flat-out bribery hadn't worked.

But they had. I was just waiting so you wouldn't think that. I guess I just wanted to save my pride. I'm sorry for that.

In fact, I'm sorry for so much more -- for all the things I never did. For all the empty promises and selfish actions. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I let you down.

I was scared that you would judge me. You see, Chloe has brain damage. And, it was caused by her new-born jaundice. It wasn't anything we knew about, but it could have been prevented if we did. I thought you would say "Well, you really f-ed up.", just like you did when Keith died of a heroin overdose. I thought you would smear it in my face. I couldn't stand the thought -- and I wanted to get her well first.

And there were other reasons. Each time I thought about contacting you, I imagined you hurting me, or rejecting me, or coming up with some terse response to break my heart or try to destroy me. I kept thinking "I HATE her so much!!".

2 weeks before you died I thought, "No, I LOVE her."

I went to Tim and said, "It's MY TRUTH that I need to talk with her".

And he agreed if it was that important that I should contact you.

Did I mention that I was pregnant?

Yep, I had another one!! She's a doll -- and no brain damage. We got her jaundice treated properly and she's doing so well. I've been giving her lots of hugs and love since you didn't get much from Grandma.

I just want you to know that I love you, Mom. It wasn't for lack of love that I didn't write to you - it was lack of skill. That and everyone advising me not to.

I've learned to follow my own truth now, though, at least hopefully I have.

So, now you don't just have a birthday, you've got a deathday to celebrate and yours is coming up this weekend. I've been thinking about joining you -- but the girls would miss me too much. I know you'd be upset if I left them. You stuck around for me and Rebecca, and that's what I'll do, too.

Thanks for listening. I keep thinking about Coos Bay and driving down to the bay and eating McDonalds together looking at the water. I wish we'd never moved. I wish you'd never gotten married again -- that it could have just been us all those years. Maybe you wished that, too. :)

Anyway, I love you, Mom. Happy Deathday!! Tell Gamma and Grandpa "Hi" and that I love them, too. Please come visit in ghost-form if you can this weekend. I've been pretty sad, sleeping a lot, and it would definitely cheer me up.

Love and kisses!!
~Peaches

Knock, knock...

Knock, knock…

You've been gone...

You've been gone a little over a week now but it feels so much longer. We're all kind of getting by here, doing what we can to help each other out, sorting out feelings and such as we attempt to go about our day to day. My son is doing well. He's closing in on 9lbs and I'm afraid to report he has my temper! I think you experienced that on more than one occasion as I did yours. He's a good kid, and I'll be telling him all about you in years to come. We've had a stretch of hot weather lately. I know how much you liked that. We keep him stripped down to his diaper as there's no air conditioning in our current apartment. I'm happy to say that he has got some great and gifted cousins to watch him grow and help him along his way. If I could ask for anything, it would be your gentle manner, deep understanding, and your ability to guide as I take my own steps into fatherhood. Please check in with me from time to time. My dreams are always open.

If you knew...

If you knew what I was going through right now, what would you say?

It's snowing now...

It's snowing now. Big fluffy flakes. It's beautiful. All I need now is some drug to enhance the intoxication I already feel after just having seen someone who looks remarkably like you. I love you.

I would like...

I would like to write you a message, but I don't know what to say, except that writing to you would mean that I have accepted that you have died.

Don't worry. I...

Don’t worry. I think your son will remember you very well. He has already bought flowers for you. I don’t know what it will be like for him growing up without you as his mother, but I see you in him, the same smile, the same pensiveness, the same quiet demeanor.

I am going...

I am going to say some things to you I have never said to you when you were alive. There are so many things to say it is hard to know where to begin. So I guess I will start with the biggest for me. I am gay. I never told you this because we had to live in that perfect house and we had to be your perfect children. Being gay would be less then acceptable to you. I remember when you talked about gay people you thought they were sick. This is how I felt – it made me ashamed, ashamed of who I was and who I am. You always said that I had to find that perfect man, and that I would not (or any woman) would not be able to function, would not be complete, would not be able to stand alone in this world without one. He had to be “Mr. Ken Doll” in your eyes; good looking, well mannered, educated and Catholic. Nothing less would do. Imagine how I felt when I realized that I could not meet your expectations. I felt ashamed, lost, scared and alone. Thank god I had good friends to help me through my coming to terms with my sexuality – at least as much as I could (I guess I am still doing this and if I had to guess, much of this is because of you.) Imagine how it had an impact on our relationship. I felt like I could never share this with you – this huge part of my life. I felt you would never accept it. I thought I would make you ill with worry so I never told you. Instead I hid an enormous part of myself from you. I hid my relationships, I hid my happiness with them and I hid my sadness when things went wrong. You lost half of my life because I could not share with you my fears and my joys. Because of this we never shared many moments of joy, regret, sadness. You were not there to support me when I most needed it. I think it is a shame, it is very sad, so much was lost.

I am less...

I am less afraid of death now knowing that you have already been through it. Maybe my own death will bring me to the same place you are. My life is simply now comprised of waiting to die.