Help, July 27, 2009, 11:32 a.m.

I get through the morning with a lot of tears and positive phone calls. There are moments when I collapse and pour out my grief and anger and despair, and there are moments when I function somewhat better. Now, I find myself holding objects in my hands with no recollection of how they got there, or how to get them out of my hands.

This loss is so distracting, so overwhelming. How will I make it through the next hour without completely falling apart? The grief today comes in waves. I feel every emotion on the rainbow in a matter of seconds. I get mad at my son, God and myself. I am also enveloped with feelings of deepest gratitude for all the many friends and blessings I have. I try to stay positive. I am so grateful that I had 23 years with my son. Many parents don't get nearly that much time. Do I wish I had more? Of course. It's not the natural order of things for children to go before their parents.

And I'm afraid, too. Of not being able to get through this grieving process whole. Of being alone when I'm old. Of the unknown, permanent life-altering changes I will experience. At the same time I realize how much parenting enriched my life. I am going to miss that terribly.

But you know, there are lots of people, young and old, who can use a friend. I hope to be that friend to many. With the loss of my son comes my vow to help as many other people in this life that I can. How thats going to happen, only God knows. I know that somehow He will get this broken mother through this and better days lie ahead.