Life is oftentimes like that quilt.
Tattered and ragged.
Sometimes we have to piece together what is remaining, And keep going . . .
Mom to Shawn Patrick Monahan 7-27-72 - 1-9-90
On July 27, 1972, a young man was born. His name meant precious gift from God. And he was. A beautiful little, chubby baby. A loving, smiling, happy child. He grew up to be a handsome young man. Talented. Played guitar. Very loved. Very loving. On January 9, 1990, he died. Whole story. Anything else that you hear, remember this story. He was a beautiful person and I loved him.
On January 9, 1990, I lost my youngest son. I have put together this web page that I dedicated to him in his memory. He was a loving 17 year old whose life was cut short.
We can reach out and touch one another and share our grief. Please feel free to write and tell me your story. Perhaps we can help one another.
While I miss my son, I have the wonderful hope of seeing him again. In fact, there is hope that we will see all of our loved ones again.
People will say: "It takes a long time to get over it." I used to get annoyed but not any more. I just say: "You NEVER get over it. You learn to live with it... But you never get over it... You pick up the pieces and continue... But now so much later, I can say that I can fondly remember him and not cry at the mention of his name. But there are times that I get misty eyed... Death is an enemy, not a friend.
I don't want to be negative but honest.
Our son died on a Tuesday. Very unexpected. I don 't know how but we managed to have a funeral that following Friday. Our son and my husband went back to work on Monday. No point sitting around the house. I went back to work on Wednesday. I couldn't stay home alone and deal with the death.
It is so hard to believe but my co-workers had a birthday party for a co-worker on the day that I came back. They KNEW that I was coming and that I don't celebrate birthdays. Also that the co-workers birthday was on the day that our son died. I was told by the supervisor that they waited for me to come back to work. Huh?
Amazing. Just amazing.
I went out to lunch alone while they had the party. Called in Thursday and Friday and didn't go back to work until the following Monday.
But I survived. Somehow.
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