The following week felt like the movie Groundhogs day. It was the same thing over and over. I remember these details…nothing more. I would drag myself out of bed, get some coffee, go outside, stare at the sky, cry. The door bell ringing constantly. People coming and going. Church dropping off meals throughout the day. Delivery people bringing flowers, plants, fruit bouquets. My ex and his family arriving in the morning and leaving in the evening. Go to bed. Wait for the uncontrollable sobs. Stare at the camera’s light. Fall asleep.
REPEAT
Arrangements had to to be made. Talk to pastor. What should his obituary say? What day? Which funeral home? Find pictures. Who will speak? Are we having food? What would Joey want? What do I want?
I want my son back….
The loss of my son 