On Phones, Social Media, etc.

 At 4:30 a.m. I shut off my phone for 24 hours. I realized yesterday (not for the first time) what a time and energy sucker phones are. My FOMO (fear of missing out) gets worse the more I scroll. I pick up my phone for no reason, or some reason I can't remember. It seems we don't think any more. We just look everything up- a recipe, a name, a location, a definition. 

We are never bored, although my phone is exceedingly boring. What I mean is, waiting time is no longer used to think, create, dream. It's scroll, scroll, scroll. I remember the days when waiting in line was an opportunity to talk, to make up games (who can hold their arm up the longest?), or look up and see a stranger or old acquaintance one could have small talk with. Once when we were waiting hours for the Boston Pops to play, we sat on a blanket and played a made up game of Password. When we were bored in church we passed notes back and forth. 

So, it is time for a break. I will talk to my sister on my mother's landline, I have access to a laptop, and anyone who needs me can stop by or call Pat if there is anything urgent. Today is my day to live like the good old 90's, even though I didn't get a smart phone until 2019. I will read, write, create, and watch the rain pour down. It will be lovely. 

The Kids

 These kids...they are friends of my kid, so I will always think of them as kids. Their average age is probably 32. This is our 6th Out of the Darkness Walk in Springfield together, and it means so much to me. The only one I met briefly before Adam died is Tara, from Macomb. 

The others met Adam at the same time and place, University of Illinois at Springfield anywhere from 2008-2011. I should say this year, technically, three of the guys are friends of Ashleigh and didn't know Adam, but support the cause of suicide prevention. I am watching them grow into full-fledged adults. It's pretty awesome, except for the fact that Adam isn't here to be growing and maturing with them. I am here, hanging onto the fragments of my son they can share with me. Sometimes it feels like they are saying things to make me feel better, and sometimes they are brutally honest about his issues. Most of the time, they are just remembering the good and funny times they had in college and the few years after. The dive bars and the dive dwellings, the tattoos and the tacos, the jobs and jams they got in. I want to know it all, but it's best not to push. 

These "kids," friends of Adam's and now mine; they are partnering up, buying houses, getting married, making career moves, having babies, extolling the virtues of Insta-Pots and Air Fryers. I can't help but wonder where he would be in life some five and a half years later. I am happy for them, of course, and  it's not a fake sense of wonder listening to them talk about the past, present, and future. That's what they are supposed to do. 

This year more than ever I wonder how long this reunion will continue. I love that they take time out of their lives to walk for Adam and others who succumbed to the darkness. And so we shared a walk, some darts, and a meal, and the fellowship was good for my soul. Thank you friends, for being there for Adam and this old lady.

Back row: Zach, Sam, Ludwig (Nick), Eli

Front row: Jon, Tara, me, Ashleigh, Michael

Old Dog, Old Tricks

 I am sitting here at now 2:00 a.m. trying to figure out how to add new blogs to My Favorite Blogs gadget. Wow, probably 45 minutes later, I got them added. Welcome new blogs and let me tell you a little about them.

Woods Writes is a new survivor Mom I met through the Out of the Darkness Walk. One of the best parts of doing these walks is finding others to connect with who have been through this experience of suicide loss, especially other moms. She just so happens to be a fantastic writer (I'm secretly-not so secretly now-Jealous). Her essay on the Labyrinth is so powerful and represents all we hoped the labyrinth at Lakeview would become. Please have a look and you will learn what strength looks like. Stepping into the world each day after your world has fallen apart. 

My Cyborg Life is written by my husband's nephew Kevin. I'm not sure I've ever met him. He lives somewhere out West but is originally from the Western New York area where my husband grew up. Kevin was diagnosed with Parkinson's in 2014, at a young age. I'm not sure how young, but way too young to be given a diagnosis of this magnitude. Kevin is also a great writer, and obviously a fighter, too! 

I have to posit that writing helps heal and process devastating situations. I know it is true for me, and for them. Putting it out in public is cathartic in a way I can't explain. Even if no one reads it, they could. It's a running dialogue with yourself you can look back on and see your growth. It's a document stored in the Cloud forever for whoever wants to find it. Maybe a great great grandchild or a future president or a random stranger who needs to hear it. 

I guess you know who the Old Dog is, and the Old Tricks refers to knowing I have edited my blog list before but it might as well have been changed to Sanskrit, with how much trouble I had figuring it out. 

LLKT

 I've noticed over time, I talk (write, post) less about my personal story and more about mental health and ending suicide stigma. I think that's a good, natural thing. But I don't want you to think I don't think about my son every single day and many times a day. For some reason, I was focusing on a gap in his teeth when we had a tooth pulled in Lockport, NY and never got it fixed. A tiny scar below his eye where a cyst was removed. My husband recently found a picture of Adam and me I don't remember seeing before. It was apparently taken on his old Kindle and popped up when he got his new Kindle. What a wonderful surprise technology has given us. Used to be you would find an old picture in a shoebox or something...

Cal sent me a sand castle picture he made today honoring Adam. He never ceases to amaze me with carrying on the legacy of King Tut (LLKT=Long Live King Tut).

I had a couple of notions about my dad the last couple of days. Oh, how he worried about the national debt. When we went to see the new James Bond movie, I thought about how he loved explosions, and judged a movie by how many and how big the explosions were. Not car chases, intellectual intercourse, or good music: explosions. 

Life is good. 

Poor Blog

 I have been so busy coordinating the Out of the Darkness Walk, amazing event, perfect weather, beautiful souls all around, I have neglected this here blog. After figuring out how to sign back in on this laptop, o woe is me, I only have 10 minutes to write this. That should be easy, since I don't have any ideas for a blog.

Know that you are loved, you are so worth it, you are making a difference in what you do without even thinking about it. It's time to plan my next visit with my dear friend, Michele. I met Michele when I was first grieving. She was and is an inspiration. She lost Cayne, her only child, in the early 2000's, but we have so many commonalities. We really connected. She is a talented artist, who used art to express her grief, and now continues to make art an essential part of her life. She inspires me to pursue my dreams and live a full life. I can't wait to see her again. 

I have been working on my book, Letters to my Family, and have about 40 pages so far. It's slow but I will get there. That has distracted me from this blog as well. 

My minutes are running out. It is a tight schedule on work days, but that's how I like it. I have made time for an extended morning routine and it gets my day started well. With that I will leave you with a wish for peace and tranquility today and always.

Namaste.