How do you heal your broken mind and soul when there shattered in so many pieces?

Today I awoke to the sound of my 6 year old son Zachary talking, what a wonderful sound to hear in the morning!

I'm more determined than ever for this Easter to be the one where I can feel I've started to put the pieces back together. I'm trying to figure out how to make each new holiday be about the present and not the past, I'm desperate for the peace of mind this could bring me, yet I don't know where to start. I love Tyler and Zachary with all of my heart and can't imagine a day without hearing their voices, getting a hug, a kiss. I don't want to concentrate on what my mind always go to; which is say Good Bye and I love you as much as possible you may never utter those words again. So how to begin to heal , I guess I will delve into the hurt, pain and tremendous sense of loss that has made me so broken. I can wipe the tears and try and wipe the hurt away from my mind.

Here Goes:



I look at all of the Easter stuff there's so much to choose from but I can't buy it, I try each year but inevitably I walk of a store empty handed minus a basket that's very non traditional. I caught myself looking and getting emotional and recalling emt's and policemen bringing Easter items to the hospital. I hit this wall year after year; wondering why don't I just make a list of what is "normal" Easter celebration items ? I don't know what they are I only have one kind of Easter "after the wreck" !

My mom couldn't cope with the loss of her mother and my sister so she just didn't mention it. It was always a "taboo" topic to talk about "them". So one day I have a sister and all of a sudden she's gone and I can't even ask my mom any questions about it. I had no idea until just now how emotional this would make me. We lived our lives as if not mentioning my sister and grandmother were dead would mean it never happened. I don't get it, I can't understand, she won't talk about it. I needed closure , my family needed closure , they couldn't wait to bury my sister so we never had any memorial for her except her grave that I only went to with my older sister or my dad. I never could freely go there when I wanted to until I could drive. What an odd thing for a teenager to do when you start driving. I would drive to East Lawn Cemetery where Lori is buried and sit in the grass by her and talk to her.

I want more than ever to not make her name unmentionable I tell the kids about her and my grandmother all the time. I try and tell them all the wonderful things I can about them. I want my kids to have Easter and know when they have kids not to let the past traumatize them; I just don't know how. I'm delving into my past and why I just seem to associate holidays with tragedy. I think partly it is because so many holidays in our family are tainted by family blood.


We always still had Thanksgiving and Christmas at my house and it was a huge family get together each year. That all changed on 12-01-89 when my grandfather(maternal) lived with us because he was paranoid schizophrenic, he had lived with us since 1982. He had just got home from Va hospital and dr's said he was fine, he was anything but. He woke up on the morning of 12-1 which he never intended to do (he had taken an entire Rx bottle of sleeping pills) that morning he wakes up eats breakfast and as I was walking into our kitchen to get my books for school he shot himself I just heard a loud sound and saw him fly backwards into the dishwasher the door was open he fell into it. I went and beat on the bathroom door to get my mom. We call 911 and go to hospital. I didn't see the gun his back was to me, all I saw was his head fly violently backwards after bang sound then he hit the dishwasher. The hospital informs us he had shot him self in the head almost right between the eyes with a 22. He had dropped the gun in the trash can also intentional.

11-31 I had called my mom at work and said "Papaw is acting weird he keeps pacing by the refrigerator and cabinet and open and closing the drawer." she came home but no one ever opened the drawer. I've always wondered "WHY" I noticed him there I thought it bizarre but I never opened this drawer where he had hidden his gun. I will live with the guilt of this day for the rest of my life.

How do you heal your broken mind and soul when there shattered in so many pieces ?