Memories and Letting Go

It's been one month. One month since he's been gone. One month since every single thing in life was changed. 

Thanks to social media apps like TimeHop, it's easy to remember what happened on this day one year ago, two years ago, etc. A couple of days ago, this picture showed up in my memories... 

There was no caption, but I remembered exactly when this picture was taken. It was on our way to South Dakota. To drop Austin off at an inpatient treatment facility. I remember wanting to get a picture of Austin and Jacob playing so that Jacob would have something to look at while his dad was away. 

And then yesterday, another memory, an old blog post. Again, from one year ago. The Struggles of Addiction in the Family. You see, it was just one year ago that there seemed to be this shift of change in our lives. Although, we had no idea what was coming. 

When I shared this post on Facebook last year, I said it was a raw and rambling post. And as I re-read it, I could feel those raw emotions open inside of me again. Only this time, they were tainted. Tainted with grief, with unimaginable sorrow, with the knowledge that our story did not have a happy ending. 

Re-reading that post was painful. Painful to think about everything that happened next over the course of 12 months. Painful to think about things that were said or done out of anger. Painful to think about how much could change in just one year. Painful to think about how it all ended. Just one month ago. 

I so wish that Austin could have gotten his happy ending. I wanted that for him so much. I couldn't tell you what I thought the future looked like for the two of us, but I wanted him happy, healthy, sober and to be the best dad he could be for Jacob. 

Instead, those of us who loved Austin are left here to deal with this abrupt change; this abrupt end. There will most likely be so many unanswered questions. So much that we will never know. That is probably one of the hardest things. But at the end of that blog post from a year ago, I wrote this: 

"...let go and let God."

In fact, I even have that reminder tattooed on my wrist now. The only thing I can do is to let go of those questions and unknown answers. Let go of what I don't understand. And let God take control. Let God comfort me. Let God bring peace to me. Let God. 

And so that is what I must do. I must ask God to comfort me. To bring me peace. Because I do know that Austin is finally at peace. I know that he is in a better place. I know that he is in the presence of the Lord. 

*Untitled*

I've written a lot of blog posts. I try to be open and sharing about what's happening in my life. I try to make you feel involved. In the past couple of years, I've written about some hard things. Things that aren't fun or easy to share. Things that are difficult to talk about. But I did that because that was life. It's a constant up and down. Highs and lows. 

But this post. This post is one I never imagined having to write. 

Nearly one month ago, Austin took his own life. 

It was a Friday afternoon at work, when suddenly I was told that two deputy sheriff's were waiting up front for me. After a minute of confusion, I did think about AJ. I thought he might be in trouble. I thought maybe he was hurt. But when they told me he was dead, it was like breath left me. There was shock and confusion. Disbelief. I remember asking if his parent knew. I remember my dad (who had come to the office after my mom called him after the deputy sheriffs had stopped at the house first) going to my desk to get my things and driving me home. I remember giving my mom a hug and finally letting the tears fall. 

My mom had called a good friend who is also a pastor. She was soon at the house and I will forever be grateful for her being there with us then. I remember asking questions. Questions I always thought I knew the answers to but now was suddenly questioning. I remember asking if we could wait to tell Jacob. Wait until - I don't know - we knew for sure? It didn't feel real. I didn't want to tell Jacob. 

Telling Jacob his dad had died was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. We had been somewhat open with Jacob about his dad and his struggles. We had told Jacob Daddy was sick. But now I had to tell him that his dad was sicker than we thought and has died. Jacob was confused and asked some questions, but he didn't want to see me or anyone else crying. He switched to his goofy self to try and cheer everyone up. 

And bless his heart, he's been the shining light in the darkness. He demands group hugs from everyone. He'll literally wipe away my tears and tell me to be happy. He'll joke and dance and be goofy to make us laugh. He'll give great big hugs. 

There's so much more that I could tell you. But what I will tell you is that I felt overwhelmed with the love and support from family and friends and people who didn't know me but knew AJ. The outpouring of love was exactly what I needed. People sharing memories that I had long forgotten or never knew. I clung to those. 

Because here where it gets complicated. AJ wasn't my husband. We were divorced. And while we were doing pretty good at co-parenting, our relationship wasn't exactly in a healthy place. And I'm struggling with that. 

The past couple of year, there has been a lot going on. And I've had to deal with everything that was thrown at me, as it was being thrown at me. There was no time to process anything, it was on to the next thing. Like I was trying to hold a million fragile pieces together. When AJ died, it was like those million pieces came crashing down on top of me. I wasn't just grieving his death. I'm grieving all those things that had been lost. I'm grieving the man I fell in love with nearly 10 years ago. I'm grieving our divorce. I'm grieving the person that AJ was before the addiction and mental illness took over. I'm grieving a somewhat strained relationship we've had over the past 9 months. I'm grieving for the loss of his battle, one that I also tried to fight. I'm grieving for the loss of any future that was taken away from us. I'm grieving the loss of Jacob's father. I'm grieving Jacob's future as he learns to navigate this world without his dad. And I'm trying to figure out how to help Jacob grieve on top of my own grief. 

I feel like I was slightly removed from AJ's life. But the force of grieve and loss has hit me like that wasn't the case. 

I don't share these things with you so you can feel sorry for me, I'm not seeking advice, I don't want to hurt anyone with my thoughts. But I'm sharing because this is real. This is my life right now. And maybe someone else needs to know they're not alone in their struggle. 

I am mad that AJ is gone. I am mad that his demons won. I still loved AJ, will always love him. I still cared deeply about him. I wanted him to get better. I wanted him to be the man that I fell in love with, that I knew he was capable of. But I also know that he is no longer in pain. That he is at peace. And while there are so many of us left here dealing with this loss, this pain, this unimaginable thing, he is no longer struggling.