In search of the Light…

In 1959, we moved to South Bend, Indiana, and at that point I was raised by my father.  He made sure I knew how to do for myself especially since the age of 7. There were nights I waited for him to come home, and he didn’t because he was trying to make ends meet.  

The first death in the family was my granny (dad’s mom)  I remember how granny was just there. Growing up I would refer to people in my life as light or dark.  The light represented someone I could lean on, and the darkness were people that meant me no good. My granny was definitely the light, and when she left I began to see nothing but darkness around me.  

When my father became ill I was around the age of 24.  My father tried preparing me for his death, but it was something I didn’t want to hear.  The following year he died.

I would be in denial of the thought of me not grieving.   I didn’t cry until returning to the house I grew up in. I tried holding on to the house, but at the age of 26 I was told to leave.  That broke me, but I tried to keep going without ever dealing with the pain of losing him caused me.

I believed I found the light again when I was with my last set of children’s mom, but when she died I found myself in a dark place.  They loss her at a young age, and it was hard for me to help them. I couldn’t understand because I wasn’t young when my dad died. I took them to speak with some therapists but they were viewed as doctors, and not a listening ear.  That’s not what they needed. They were too young to understand why their mom is gone, and ain’t nobody here to tell them. Their thoughts of “I wish it could’ve been anybody but her, and now I’m angry. I didn’t get to know anyone like I know her and nobody can replace her.” I’ve studied other people’s ways of handling their grief for the past five years.  I’m still learning how to deal with the pain. It’s a long journey, and you get in those moments that remind you of that person when you think you can’t be triggered, you are.

It’s a lot of pain out here, and I’m still experiencing it.  My baby boys turned 18, and apart of me is upset that I had to be mean, but I wanted to show them that there’s nobody here for you but you. I’m hurting for my boys I wanna help them not to hurt.  I don’t want to see them destroy their lives. My mother is still living, and I know that their relationship is different from the relationship I had with my father and I had to respect that.

My kids suffered the loss of their mom, and then my twin grandsons loss their mom in a tragic car accident, younger than when my boys loss their mom.  I’m only hoping that they can be the light for their nephews in due time.

God put me in this path. I didn’t question it, it’s apart of my life.  

Thank God, I’m still in my right mind.

My son found a way to channel his grief through rapping.  They are the ones who taught me to take hold of my grief. I was able to find peace with losing my dad.  Over 35 years later, and hopefully they can arrive at peace sooner than I did.