Shattered Glass

Dawn and I met with our grief counselor (Andrea) again today after a 2-week break. The break wasn't planned, just the universe reminding everyone who is in charge. (Answer: no one.) Fortunately, we held our collective shit together while Andrea was sidelined. There were some touch and go moments for sure, but we did ok all things considered. I'm certain the outcome would have been entirely different had this happened a few weeks ago...But it didn't. And we're ok.  In the second half of today's session Andrea dropped a bomb on us: apparently there are some people who, for reasons I don't fully understand, believe that Damian did not commit suicide but was the unwitting victim of a TikTok challenge. Something called the "blackout" or "hanging" challenge, the objective of which is to choke or hang yourself until you pass out. WTF?! The Internet is a breeding ground for some truly dumb shit. I know I shouldn't be surprised. I work in IT after...

A mix of emotions today: sadness, anger, resentment and bitterness.  Not long after we woke up, Dawn shared with me that she was feeling down and that she was hungry. I told that we were going to go to breakfast - and try to make up for the fiasco that was the previous night's dinner! - and then go walk dogs at the lake. (We had talked about doing it yesterday but it didn't happen.) I knew she needed to get out of the house.  All went according to plan but my emotions kicked in after we got done walking the dogs and I had walked over to our boat. I sold it earlier in the week - deposit has been put down but still awaiting payment of the outstanding balance - and wanted to take some pictures today to share with the new owner. There was lots of activity in the parking lot as a number of sailors were getting ready for an afternoon of racing. Many of the people there were teens. And that made me think of Damian. He has the same model of boat (Laser) that these kids. And that made ...

The end of another week. The eve of another dreaded anniversary. Tomorrow will mark 9 weeks.  As the number of days and weeks since the day that Damian died continues to climb, I struggle with feelings of guilt related to how much time I spend thinking about him. I've gotten a lot busier with work the last couple of weeks so I'm not sitting around nearly as much as I did before. When I punch out at the end of my work day, I often wonder how I could so easily dismiss him from my thoughts for so many hours at a time. If you had asked me 10 weeks ago, hypothetically speaking, what I could see myself doing after 8 weeks following such a tragedy, I probably would have said something along the lines of: "I see myself lying curled up in the fetal position not wanting to live. And staying that way until I died." And yet here I am. Going on with life. With my life. Yes, I've made some changes but it still looks a lot like what it did from the before. Even to me. Is that wr...

Sold the boat today.  Well, to be more accurate, I have a buyer lined up. He has paid a deposit so I'm considering it sold.  I was wrestling with moving ahead but feel ok doing so now. The tipping point came yesterday when I had lunch with a close friend. I told John I was having reservations about selling the boat. After hearing what I was thinking and feeling, John told me that if he were in my shoes that he wouldn't be able to keep the boat.That it would be too painful to keep around especially considering the reason why we bought it - so Damian and I could sail together. He then said, that, in time, I'll find something else that feels right. And he was right so today I posted it on Facebook and had it sold in less than hour.  I spoke to the buyer and he sounds like a nice guy. Good sailing pedigree (J24, E scow, A scow, etc.) with a wife and a couple of children - a girl who is 11 and boy who is 6 - who are all into sailing. They should have a blast. It makes me feel ...

Late this afternoon Dawn and I spent time with Damian's friends from school. We joined them during robotics practice. The regular season is over; they are now preparing for the state tournament.  When we arrived at school we came bearing gifts. Earlier in the day, Dawn and gathered up some of Damian's computer peripherals and 3D printer filament which we brought with us this afternoon. Soon after we arrived, we had fun handing it all out. Dawn did a great job relating the story of the University of Florida sweatshirt that she bequeathed to one of Damian's friends who is a transplant from Miami.  Damian had purchased a U of F sweatshirt over Thanksgiving break. Not long after we returned home, our dogs got ahold of it one day when Dawn was doing laundry. They proceeded to destroy it in a spirited game of tug of war. The one we handed out today was the replacement sweatshirt. Damian had no knowledge of the first one having been destroyed or the new one having been ordered. ...

I need to find a new hobby.  I plan to walk away from sailing. At least for awhile. Thinking about being on a boat now is difficult. We introduced Damian to sailing early in his life and he stuck with it to the end. He and I sailed together for fun, we raced together, and we raced against each other often. We've taken several sailing vacations as a family. And we had big plans for 2022 that also revolved around our new boat. The thought of doing any of this without him is painful. So for now I plan to stay on shore. I'll reassess every few days to see if I feel like it's ok to go back out on the water, but I'm not going to force it. It will happen when it happens. In the meantime, I'm going to work on the house, try again to learn how to play my guitar, go mountain biking and maybe dabble in some small (?) woodworking projects.  I've been daydreaming about building things out of wood for many years. I don't know what's holding me back. Maybe fear of fail...

I've received some condolences recently that were a mix of the unexpected and the overdue. What is interesting is how I am reacting to them. I'm noticing that I'm calibrating my response based largely on who is on the other end of the line.  Last week I received emails from 2 different people expressing their sadness stemming from Damian's death. One was from an life-long friend of my mothers whom I've never met or spoken to. The other from an old colleague that I haven't spoken to in 3 years, maybe longer. I don't have the energy to respond with anything illuminating or reassuring so I've chosen, for now, not to respond. Is that rude of me? I hope not.  This afternoon, soon after I logged onto a conference bridge, a peer of mine from another company offered his condolences. I don't know what he knows exactly. I don't know who told him - I have an educated guess but that's all - or how much detail he was provided. As he said it, I thanked him...

Work has started taking over. I don't know if that is good or not. I put in close to a full week last week - my first! - and have been working most of today (Sunday). I have a demo tomorrow afternoon and another on Tuesday that I have to get ready for. A few weeks ago, I was unable to concentrate on much of anything. Now it seems that my concentration is coming back. So "yeah"...I think.  I did take a break this afternoon to go to a hockey game with Dawn. It has been several years I think since we last went to one. It was good to get out of the house. I think I can say that I had a good time. And I didn't feel guilty about it either which is a plus.  On the way to the game Dawn and I discussed selling the (new) sailboat. I was going to list it for sale online a couple of weeks ago but I chickened out at the last minute. I just couldn't muster up the strength to part with it. I think I'm ready now to let go. Hopefully I don't get cold feet again.  It feels ...

 **Warning - Contains vivid imagery describing the real death of a teenager.** Friday, December 10, 2021 was a good day. Work for me was going well and Christmas was only 2 weeks away. I was excited. Even more so because Damian and I were set to go sailing the following day (Saturday) on our new boat. Damian had finished most of his classes. I think he had a couple of finals he still had to tackle the following week but most of the pressure of the semester had been bled off over the previous couple of days. The following afternoon, after we got done sailing, Damian was going to a robotics party at a friend's house. This night he was content to play video games online with his friends. When Dawn and I went to bed that evening we could hear him yelling, in the heat of computer-simulated battle, through our bedroom floor from the basement. That was the last time we heard Damian's voice.  Around 3:30 the following morning, I woke up because I had to go to the bathroom. I didn't...

The end of week number 8. 56 consecutive days of not seeing Damian or talking with him. No contact of any kind. It's been a long 8 weeks but then I remind myself (yet again) that this is only the first 56 days of forever. I will never see or talk with him again. Not really. Not the way I so desperately want to.  Today, I went to my work office for the first time in the after. Being there was ok. I had forgotten that I had a lot of pictures of Damian in my office. The pictures are from different years of his life. Some are of just him; others are of the 3 of us. Happier times from the before.  On my way into the office I stopped at my favorite deli to grab a bagel sandwich to go. The owner of the deli, a spunky Korean woman, calls me "Mr. Sriracha" because I always ask for it on my bagel: sausage, egg cheese and Sriracha on a plain bagel. Yum. This morning, as she handed me my bagel and was making change for the $10 bill I'd given her, she asked me how 2022 was going. ...

Damian's school robotics team (Lakeview Academy's Galactic Lions, team 5898) made the cut and is going to the Georgia state tournament (to be held February 18th and 19th).  Their head coach put out an email today with all the details.  Probably not a surprise, but I have mixed emotions about this. I'm happy the team is going, but (very?) sad that Damian won't be there. One thing that was more painful than I would have expected was the team photo, taken, presumably, sometime this week, that accompanied the email. Of course Damian wasn't in it. How could he be? That hit me in a tender spot. I imagined him being in the photo for a few moments and then had to look away. Too painful. On the bright side, the other kids in the photo all looked happy which was encouraging as Damian was close friends with most of them. Of course, I've also come to learn that an outward smile can often times be deceiving with the inner self being in conflict while the outer self presents ...

I want to do mushrooms. I've never done mushrooms, but I want to give them a try.   From the little research that I've done, mushrooms - those that contain psilocybin - can make you feel connected to the universe and are purported to be a natural anti-depressant. The big advantage over Big Pharma products is that you only have to take mushrooms once and the anti-depressive effect can last for several months.  And it's all natural. Sign me up. I'll be sure to pack a bag from my "trip"... Speaking of trips, I booked another one over the weekend. I'm going skiing in Colorado at the end of the month (February) with some fraternity brothers. It's been 20 years since I last strapped skis to my feet. I hope it's like riding a bicycle and that the muscles will quickly remember how it works. I am a bit worried though. Since my motorcycle accident (in 2019), my foot will cramp up if I'm on it too long or put it under a lot of strain. Not sure how well it...

Another rough day. Grief has shown itself again, but not to me. At least not directly.  Dawn, my wife, is really struggling. This afternoon has been especially difficult. Lots of powerful emotions. Despair and anger seem to be the most prevalent. It’s all very raw. Visceral. Dawn’s heart is absolutely shattered. And her mind is struggling to make any sense of it. How can it? It wasn’t supposed to play out like this. And nothing - nothing! - in life prepares you for this possibility… I’m doing what I can to prop Dawn up, but it doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough. I hold on. I tell her I love her, that I’m here for her. Asking her if she is ok knowing that she isn’t. I make lunch. And dinner. I make promises that I am and will be here for her as long as she needs me. And then some. Whatever it takes.  I’m beginning to see grief as kind an insidious adversary. Like a really patient and dedicated guerrilla fighter who mostly hides in the shadows. And then, when your guard is down ...

Death. It's all around us. Not in the physical sense – notable exception granted to those who work in a funeral home, hospital, hospice or morgue - but the ever present portrayal of death in the media and entertainment.  In the last few weeks, I've become hyperaware of the many forms death takes in what we watch, read, and  even listen to. The death of a character (major or minor) to advance the story; the death of a loved one or close friend or acquaintance as part of a character's back story; dialogue related to death or the act of dying - some of it serious, most of it not; songs lamenting the loss of someone;  the omnipresent news headlines about homicides, suicides, fatal accidents, and whatever else that "bleeds" and therefore "leads". And on. And on. And on... Does it bother me? I think it does a little, yeah. For two reasons.  1. Portrayals of death have become a bit of a trigger for me. Not all of them, but definitely some of them. The ones that...

7 weeks. That’s how long I’ve been in the after. I’m so very tired of being here…

When Damian was around 4 years old, the 3 of us (Dawn, Damian and I) went to the beach in South Carolina for a long weekend. I believe the place was called Ocean Isle. The first night we were there, we went out to dinner. The restaurant was busy enough that we had to wait about 30 to 40 minutes before we got seated. While we waited for our table, we each had something to drink. Non-alcoholic for Damian and I, probably wine for Dawn.  Not long after we sat down and had placed our dinner order, Damian said that he had to go the bathroom. Dawn looked at me and said, “Your turn”.  “No problem.” I thought, “I got this”. And off we went.  When we got into the mens room, the water closet was occupied but the urinal was available. The only problem was that it was high enough off the ground that Damian was not going to be able to reach it without assistance. Fortunately, there was a step stool under the sink which I grabbed and placed in front of the urinal. As I turned to help Da...

Feeling better today. Stronger. Yesterday was...excruciating. For the first time, I believe, I experienced  real sorrow and grief. I say this because what I felt yesterday was something new - raw and horrible. It felt like the weight of the world was bearing down on me and that it was never going to let up.  I was despondent, unconsolable, weeping uncontrollably. I felt like there was no hope for me, for a better tomorrow. I don’t want to experience another day like it, but I’m told by my grief counselor (Andrea) that, as much as it hurts, it’s actually a good thing in the long run. I’m still trying to make sense out of that one, but for now I place my faith in her and her abilities to guide me through. But make no mistake, the depths of grief and despair are truly awful places to live.  Today I spoke to a friend who is going through his own personal hell. He has a child (older teen) that suffers from addiction and has been in numerous treatment facilities during the...

Like a yo-yo. That's what this journey feels like. One minute you're in a neutral position - never would I describe it as "up" -  then all of a sudden I bottom out, then, eventually, back to neutral or somewhere in between.  Then the process repeats, the only aspects of which are unknown are the time I will spend at any particular level of the grief continuum before moving to the next or in which direction my grief will travel from my present position - downward or upward, back to neutral. The constant ebb and flow of emotions is, at best, difficult to endure; at worst, it's debilitating.  The last 24 hours have been especially tough. Dealing again with the permanence of it all. So much so that I question now whether the trip to New Mexico was a blessing or a curse. Yes, I was able to escape for a few days from the constant reminders of what has happened but now they have all come roaring back with a force that feels much greater than when I left. Maybe I would ha...

I miss my son. I miss everything about him. His smile. His red hair. His infectious laugh. His "teen" speak. (Can I get a "brah" or a "hey, boomer"?) What I wouldn't give to have him back.  There are a lot of great memories crammed into the 15 years, 8 months, and 18 days that I got to spend with him. I remember... He spent the first 10 days of his life in Neonatal ICU because he was 5 1/2 weeks premature. But he weighed over 7 pounds when he was born! He would treat me like a rock star when I would come home from work. My wife would get jealous because he was never like that with her since they got to spend all day together.  The thing he wanted most for Christmas the year he was 4 (2010) was a sport jacket and tie. He wanted to be like me.  Building a rocket ship in the basement that we would sit inside of and travel to the far corners of the galaxy. I went to RadioShack and bought a bunch of knobs and switches that I mounted on the rocket's cont...

Unwinding a life takes work. Even one that was cut tragically short.  I haven't had to do this before. When my dad died (10 years ago) my mom handled it – the decisions of what to keep, what to pass on, what to donate, what to throw away. I didn't appreciate how much work this is until I started doing it.  I've been in Damian's bedroom a few times since he died. It's going to take time to sort through all of his possessions as he had a lot of stuff. I've spent a little time doing so already and haven't made much of dent. Some decisions are easy, but I expect there will be many moments of doubt and debate (?) as we go through everything.   Keep, pass on, sell, donate or throw away. These are the options in front of me. In front of us.