The Guilt

The people came from everywhere...they came and they hugged and they soothed and they helped, but I couldn't remember who and from where. I still can't. I knew that I was in a room full of people and always felt alone...so very alone. My son, my little boy whom I'd try so hard to love was gone. And the guilt- the evil, life sucking guilt became more  and more apparent each passing moment of each passing day. I became more aware than ever of every single decision I had ever made with my son. Did I try hard enough? Should I have begged him to come home? Should I have chased him down and begged him to come home? I tried. I called him in storms because I worried so about him. I called him personal storms to try and help. I tried to include him in every holiday. But I got tired, tired of chasing a young man who never wanted to be caught. And so I gave up. I had given up on ever reaching him and making him see how much we loved and needed him. For every time he visited- he'd leave me a bad note or ignore me the next time he saw me in public. It was just too hard- loving him was just sooo hard. His constant rejection of me began to tear me apart and I couldn't be a good mother or wif to the rest of the kids- heck I culdn't be anything. And so I just stopped. if he came over- we welcomed him- if he didn't we prayed. At least we always had prayer. And now here I was, left with this emptiness that I was sure was about to consume me. I could remember all of the bad times and none of the good. So they were right- I concluded- all of the "Jeffites" were right- I was a bad mother and I did suck. I could name names of the people who always had a negative opinion about how Tim and I parented but it doesn't matter.  And now it really never will. They were right- I was wrong. But the guilt was awful and sometimes it still is. I made a choice a long time ago that when I grew up, I wanted to be a wife and a mother. I didn't want to be mediocre- I wanted to be spectacular, even if it meant giving up all of my personal hopes and dreams. And I have given up a great many things, but God has a way of giving a mother new dreams that fit better into her family's lifestyle.
So with Jeff's committing suicide I knew that I had failed. Afterall, wasn't it my fault that he left in the first place? He didn't want to follow the rules- rules that I made. Were they too hard to follow? Should I - could I have done something different? Everyday and everynight became a wrestle with my head and my heart to decide what exactly I had done wrong to make Jeff do this. And I wanted a "do over". How could he hate our life- a life that I created for our children- a life I always wanted as a child. A life where there was always a family meal at the table. A life where we always prayed together. A life where we went to every game and every event. A life where Tim and I wore Goodwill and our kids wore nikes. A world where we played games and helped the grandparents and taught morals and values. A life full of laughter and no drugs and no alcohol and no fighting and no yelling and no one leaves and everyone works together and stays married forever. That was our world- that was Jeff's world, and he rejected it time and time again and this time for good and it was my fault. The guilt became so bad that I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. I had no alone time because everyone was everywhere. I began to go crazy...I was losing it- really losing it and it was killing me. I couldn't love, I couldn't hug, I couldn't feel anything, but pain. This awful overwelming pain. How could he shoot his own self???? I saw his face everywhere- I felt his presence all over.
 And then God sent them to me. The people who knew- who really knew the hell we had went through with Jeff. God sent Trudy, Melissa, Teresa, and my Katie Aronin. And God sent Pastor Matt who ministered to Tim and I over and over again and assured us that this was not our fault. Pastor Matt who put as much into our son's life as much as we did, and never gave up even when we threw in the towel and let him do what he was going to do. Pastor Matt so young and so full of life that we put our children's spiritual well being into his hands because he was so close and had lived to have an awesome testimony already. He came and he cried and he ministered and he made the difference. He made me see that God was using this- that kids were going to get saved- that 6 lives that had already decided not to committ suicide- came to him and would not. Jeff's death had already made a difference ...he was saving lives.
And so this had a purpose...the guilt was still there and I was one raw nerve, but if I could hang onto some good in this mess..then I could get through the next few days...I had to because I was also someone else's mother too....