Thru this world of grief I’ve met countless people who share this terrible pain of loss. Throughout my travels online, I came across a site titled, Project Grief and it caught my attention. I apparently caught the authors attention as well, her name is Danica Thurman. She endured loss at a very young age when her Father suddenly passed away and found solace thru art. She has an incredible story, link to Danica’s blog is above, as well as below.
Danica was working on a blog focused on weddings and grief. She came across my Instagram page @grieving_joes_life and seen my post about my daughters wedding and a picture of Joe’s Remembrance Table. She graciously reached out and asked permission to share Joe’s table and thoughts from the bride (my daughter Allie) and those who created such a beautiful Remembrance of our son. I was ecstatic and welcomed her invitation with open arms.
She posted the article today on her blog. I am overwhelmed with joy and can actually say today has been the most joyful moment in life, I don’t have too many of those anymore (with the exception of our daughter’s wedding a couple of months ago). After experiencing the sudden loss of our only son, grief tends to cloud most days.
Thank you Danica Thurman (Project Grief) for the most beautiful gift, helping me to share the “Life of Joe” with the world. This article has given my soul much needed nourishment. My ♥️heart can breathe a little better today, even if it’s for a brief moment …I’ll take it!
Today I did some refreshing cleanup in Joe’s room. I vacuumed the carpet, dusted his furniture, wiped the dust off his shoes and clothes in his closet, and I put away his sunglasses that were on his desk. I don’t know why but I guess I got tired of them getting touched. So, I put each pair inside an eyeglass case and placed them in his nightstand drawer. Now their “safe” thats what comes to my mind, they’re in a safe place now. Maybe I’m too overbearing with Joe’s personal things, oh well.
As I vacuumed behind his desk, I noticed a long white piece of paper with tiny printed words on it and a black business card folded in half. The name on the card was Miguel (Joe’s barber). Also, a tiny piece of green paper maybe from a candy wrapper, I’m not sure? I held these 3 items that were on his bedroom floor, in a dusty corner of his bedroom, as if I had been given these beautiful shiny pieces of gold. I sat down on his desk chair and I stared at these little things, wondering how they got to be there behind his desk. I put the business card in his nightstand drawer. Then, as I started to throw away the white tag and green paper I stopped myself, I couldn’t do it! I could not throw those two pieces of things that were in his bedroom in the trash. I put them in a plastic snack bag and placed them carefully inside his nightstand drawer. Those three things I held in my hand with intense love and I kept each one as if Joe was going to need them when he came home. Although my reality is I KNOW he isn’t, somewhere deep in the back of my mind I’m thinking “maybe, just maybe, he might.”
I started to think backwards. Asking myself, which haircut day did he get Miguel’s business card? Or, where did the tiny green piece of paper come from? What about the tag? Which shirt and when did he buy it? He hated those tags on the back and he removed it every time. He has so many shirts in every color! Goodness, why does it matter which shirt?
And, why does our brain start to literally pick apart and dissect every tiny piece of anything we find that belonged to our child who is no longer breathing the same air as us? Does our brain go into protection mode when we lose a child? How is it so many of us have the ability to survive such an enormous gut-wrenching tragedy? And, what is it about every tiny piece of “anything” we hold on to it? When all it’s going to do is remind us that our child is gone? There we are, just when the tiny bit of sunlight begins to find its way through the billions of cracks that come attached to grief, we go right back into that place of darkness and pain. Who knows the why’s or what’s? I’m no expert, but I do know this; I’d rather suffer in pain on my floor weeping talking about my son Joseph versus to not talk about him at all because it hurts too much.
SAY THEIR NAME! His names deserves to be spoken. His name is Joseph Anthony Suarez, and He is my Son.
Today, what started as a very simple “refresh” of Joe’s bedroom was spiraling into that deep, deep, deep water. Once your mind goes to that deep dark place and the dissecting begins, everything turns to black. I started to go there with those three very small pieces of anything, I was headed down as deep as I possibly could, but I caught myself and BOOM! I stopped. I actually stopped thinking so dam hard for once. It was a huge milestone today. I’m kinda proud of myself, I did alright. Unfortunately, tomorrow could look entirely different. I call it “GRIEF IN PIECES.”
Pieces of Joe’s life constantly land in front of me. And, it’s the tiniest of things I find that mean everything to me. I sprayed his cologne on my arm, that was 4 hours ago, but I can still smell it as if he just walked into my room to tell me about his day. So, I’ll lay here and visualize Joe talking in his loud voice, we are laughing because he is the most amazing storyteller, and when he’s done he kisses my forehead and tells me, “Momma, I Love You” And right back I kiss his cheek, “Son, I Love You So Much More!” I feel good now.
Dear Mommy, today is March 25, 2019, you’ve been in heaven 11 years. Last year at this time, Allie, Joe, Ella & myself spent time at your gravesite, it was beautiful. But, this year is different Mom. I can’t do my normal anniversary day with you today, I’m so sorry, I hope you can forgive me.
Life has changed, but you probably already know that and most likely seen it coming long before me. Joseph, he’s gone before me Mom. My only son, your grandson, but I’m guessing he is probably right beside you saying he didn’t leave on purpose, it was an accident. Again, you probably knew that though, this hurts every bone in my body and even more so today. I’m angry. I’m angry that you have Joe with you now. I know it’s very selfish of me, please forgive me. But, my truth is I want Joseph here next to me and to be honest Mom, I don’t want to go to the cemetery today. I don’t want to take you flowers and sit next to your headstone and talk to you about my life. Because my life took a left turn and went straight into this unknown place where sadness takes over the soul. It’s dark, ugly, and miserable, I hate it.
How did you do it? How did you keep going after losing Daddy, then Sis? How?! I wish you could tell me what to do. I try every day but it’s not enough. The worst part is I know I should be happy that Joe is in a beautiful place with you and God, versus the other. I should be thankful, but I’m too selfish I guess. I want him with me, he should be here with his sisters, his niece Ella, his dad, family and friends, but he’s not. He is with you. God forgive me, please. I’m so sorry. Everything feels so much heavier today. My entire body aches like I’ve been hit by a train. I can’t move my legs, my chest hurts when I breathe, my eyes are swollen from tears, and my heart is broken. Maybe this is my punishment for being so selfish.
I have chosen to stay in my pajamas today, under my blankets, binging on Netflix. I’m going to cry if I want to, laugh if something funny comes on the television, munch on my snacks, cry again, and wait for the night to come so I can close my eyes until tomorrow. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, it’s not here yet. I will cross that bridge when I get there. I hope you know that I love you and I miss you very much. But, to not have you or my son in this living life crushes my soul 100 times harder at this moment. I just can’t do it today, I hope you’re not too disappointed in me. I’m so sorry. I’m just a hot mess today. I love you Mommy, kiss my son for me (I miss him so much) and please help give me strength.