My blogging has been slacking because... well... life, but I wanted to make a plea to anyone out there who knows someone or loves someone who is grieving. I posted a post called "The Strong Willed Woman in February of 2015, and you can read it here or you can scroll through the blog and find it yourself:
http://tgandsarcasticmom.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-strong-willed-woman.html
I want to tell you how the grief of losing a child broke "the strong willed woman" into a million pieces. On April 13, 2016, we finally got our "justice." He pled guilty again and off to prison he went, but not without a fight. You see, what you read in the news is not all that goes on behind the scenes. We knew, even with that guilty plea, we still had a fight. There would be an appeal, and another, and another, all the way to the Alabama Supreme Court. All of this lasted until about November of 2016, when the Alabama Supreme Court denied to hear his appeal. Even after that, as early as April of this year, there was a personal appeal made to the new Judge in our case, since Judge Bush retired, for consideration of early parole. Thankfully, it was quickly denied.
Keep in mind, this person has spent a little over one year in prison on a 16 year manslaughter conviction. To add insult to injury, his first parole consideration is coming up in 2020. If you're good with math, that's three years from now that we'll have to put on our "we're not scared" mask and go running down to the Board of Pardons and Parole and plead our case to keep him in prison.
This is why I broke. It's NEVER going to be over. Sure, you have breaks, blocks of time where nothing happens and there's nothing to worry about. Then as sure as the sun rises, there is something to do. Justice. That word doesn't mean quite as much to me as it used to. More like we'll give you and your family "momentary peace" then, every so often, we'll dig all these emotions up again. And when these emotions come, they're just as raw and ugly and rip you apart in all the same ways they did the first time they tore you down. There's no hiding, no running, it's always in the back of your mind.
I told you that to tell you this: Mother's Day is coming up. Ohhhh... what a shitshow that day is. I've been told I'm not allowed to be sad on Mother's Day because I have Tyler Grace. To you people I pose this question: If you have children, which one would you be willing to live without? Yeah, I thought so. So let me say this: Mother's Day is allowed to suck. It's allowed to suck a whole, giant bag of dicks if I want it to because it's one of those days that can be grouped into my category of "Sucky Days" along with Christmas, his birthday and the day he died. Stop telling people who are grieving the loss of their child that they are or are not allowed to think or feel a certain way.
Because let me tell you something folks, there is no timeline on grief. It's not linear. It's not something that will diminish over time. It is a part of who we are now. It hasn't always been a part of us, but it is now and while it may take some time for you to realize that this grief has changed us, for us, we didn't get the luxury of having time to "get used to it." It was forced on us in the ugliest of ways, without warning and without a blanket to cushion our ass. So as strong willed as one might be, we're not unbreakable.
To those of you out there who love someone who is grieving, especially a mother this Mother's Day, I need for you to show up and show out for them. I know I've gotten through Mother's Day before since he died and I'll get through many more, but for some, it's not as easy. On this day, THEIR day, be a punching bag because I promise you, these women, fight invisible, silent battles every damn day of their lives, give them something they can hit. Give them a face to scream at. Give them a judgment-free safe space where they can yell "THIS FUCKING SUCKS" or "I'M SO FUCKING ANGRY I CAN'T SEE STRAIGHT" or "I BLAME LOSING MY CHILD ON whoever." If you love them, give these amazing strong women, who fight battles we know nothing about, a place to release the demon that is the grief of losing a child.
Because, after all, it is THEIR day.
