Today marks 256 days since I last heard Jacob’s voice. Please keep in mind that I am writing from my experiences and thus, I write in the first person. He’s departed from his mom, sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and many more. This is how I see it.
Therapy has saved me. Naomi and I see the world’s best grief therapist and (if I were a fighting man) I will fight any person who says differently. I am also involved in EMDR to deal with my PTSD as a result to watching Jacob die. There isn’t an easy way to say it. It’s cruel, unbelievable and all too real. Grieving while also moving forward in life is the hardest task I’ve ever encountered.
My days are filled with constant reminders to “be present.” Be present while working. Be present and accountable for my health and weight. Be present in conversations. Be present doing things which seem mundane. I can only do this if I compartmentalize situation and feelings. I can only do this with if I trick myself that this reality didn’t actually happen. It did.
Anger, denial and bargaining are a daily practice for me. The emphasize the word “practice.” I am not in denial that Jacob is not here in the physical. That does not mean there are not times when I think, albeit abbreviated, Jacob is still alive and this is a bad fucking dream. I don’t deny Jacob has passed on at a high level. There are times in everyday when I say it cannot be true. The same goes for bargaining. My bargaining isn’t a typical fate. Instead, I think why the fuck is “insert bad person” alive and Jacob isn’t? These are all troubling thoughts and always lead me to dark places.
Death has no mercy. It’s not graceful. I am angry. I am also grateful that I was there. I’m grateful for the laughs we shared. I am grateful to his counselor at CCF for letting him write goodbye letters to Naomi, Ana and me. Jacob’s physical weakness did not stop his mind and heart. He was eloquent and dignified.
We are only promised one thing at birth. That promise is an expiration date. It sounds morbid and cruel but that is 100% truth. Everything else is unknown. At the same time, there is only one thing we as people are able to control and that is our reaction to situations. The serenity prayer is the greatest prayer for my mental health. G-D, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference. Courage, Change, Wisdom!
As I embark on a New Year, I’m working on my anger. Anger is my overwhelming emotion of choice. I lived in a gratitude that I was granted sobriety from G-D so I was able to be there for Jacob. While I am still grateful for that gift, I’m really angry. What kind of fucked up “ultimate being” takes this lad away from us? What selfish fuck thinks this is acceptable? What kind of G-D does this? I’ve been told forever that everything happens in G-D’s world for a reason. This is illogical.
My beautiful rabbis sent Naomi and I texts on Rosh Hashanah wishing us peace. The gesture was perfect and meant more than they’ll ever know. At the same time, I’m pissed at G-d right now and I don’t know when this will make sense. The High Holy Days have little meaning to me. We asked and begged for Jacob’s name to be inscribed in the book of life and this fucking G-d spitefully rejected our pleas. I am now supposed to confess my sins and repent next week? I have a hard time with that concept.
I wish I colud exude positivity and hope. Today is not that day. While there is still belief in peace of mind, not today.
Be good to yourself!
