Oh my God!  Patrick died!  Oh, God, the pain is unbearable!!  Why is it still so intense?!  I am in utter disbelief!  I am not waking *up from* a nightmare.  I am slowly waking *into* a nightmare!!  Each day, the realization of my Patrick’s death becomes more literal–it is becoming more real.

The pain now is back to the initial, physical throes of grief.  I can’t breathe, I throw up, I can’t eat, I want to stop, I want to shrivel up.  My body shakes uncontrollably, I get strong heat, searing flashes, I get shivery cold.  My chest is compressed with too much weight.  I become paralyzed.  I hyperventilate.  I become numb and tingly.  My stomach hurts. My energy is completely sapped. How?  How do I keep going?

He’s NEVER coming back!  I feel panicked.  I feel the fear rising from deep within.  I’m scared.

I haven’t been able to listen to music–it’s too emotional.  I haven’t been able to look much at pictures. I haven’t been emotionally able to bring up any vivid memory of him–I have created a protective shell around me to keep me from having a specific memory of him.  Today and yesterday, short “moving”, action memories come to me, and I am physically seized again.

Today I lay paralyzed on the couch while family moves about me.  Quite abruptly, the rain calls to me from a nearby open window.  I walk outside to a semi-private spot and feel the cold rain pelting me.

I am the gentle showers of rain…

Do I feel him in the rain?  Yes.  A few scattered milli-seconds of “awareness”.  Mostly?  I feel cold.  And wet.

This Post Has 1,243 Comments


    I wish I had the words to make you feel better. I wish I had a pill you could take that would erase all of the pain. I just don’t. Please know that I am thinking of you and hoping that each day brings a ray of hope and bit of peace.

  2. hathomas

    i’m here. i’m listening.

  3. carolann19


    I wish I could give you a big hug and try to help make you feel better, but I know it probably wouldn’t work. We all love you and are here for you, let us help if you need it.


  4. Pam Lawrence

    When my Mom died suddenly last summer, we were blessed with the help of Hospice. A different situation than yours, but not that different really??

    Through my experience I learned that there are steps to getting through grief. We have to face them and realize “better” will never come unless you get through each step.

    Each of us has our point when we are ready to “hear” this sort of information. When you get ready to “hear” this, that’s a great time to look for all the knowledge that is surrounding you. It’s there. Each options has it’s benefits.

    Friends and family are great for the let it all out days. Many of those days will still come, but eventually less & less.

    At some point you may want to consider a professional. The right person can hold your hand through the “storm” and help to show you the bright clear sunny days.

    IU offers services for you…
    >Student Counseling Center
    Indiana University South Bend
    Administration Building 130
    1700 Mishawaka Avenue
    South Bend, IN 46634
    Phone: (574) 520-4125
    Hours Monday-Thursday, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.; Friday, by appointment

    Your well being is important to so many people, but mostly to the 4 little clones of Pat.
    When you think you are ready, take the help of your beautiful friends, family and church members and incorporate it with some professional help.

    It can be the warm fuzzy feeling that will let you relax, eat and sleep again.

    Hospice is based on income- No income, no fee
    IU offers help to immediate family members of students.

    Take the help and roll it all up with your love for Pat, you’ve got to come out the other end feeling better.

    I’m praying for you…

  5. Paul_Jenny

    I read your posts and I am filled with sadness. Your pain radiates from the screen. I have no answers, only more questions of my own.

    I keep a picture of Pat on my dresser. Every morning when I get up and every night before I go to bed I see his picture. Some days it gives me strength, some days it kicks me in the side. Some days I think about him and I want to cry, some days it makes me smile. On the bad days, I want to put his picture in the drawer. On the good days, I am glad to see him.
    His picture is still on my dresser….

    Jenny and I truly hope you find a way to cope with the pain. I want to say I hope you find a way to forget the pain. If it were myself though, I would not want to forget. I would want to remember everything, even the pain. May you be shown the way to live with the pain.

    Peace and respect,
    Paul and Jenny

  6. liz sawyer

    I love you, Aunt Nancy. I just posted up some photos of Uncle Pat around my desk- where I study most of the time. I think about you every day.

  7. hathomas

    last night as i walked out to my car from work in the rain (as always unprepared without umbrella), i was thinking of you, nancy, and your above post. i paused to feel the rain, the way i could feel each individual drop against my face coming from thousands of feet up. you’re right. it was cold. and wet.

    but, it made me think of patrick and all the wonderful things that he embodied, all the giving such as you mentioned in your most recent post. i wondered if i did my best to uphold patrick’s expectations this evening at the hospital. i, of course, cannot elaborate. however, for a moment, i felt like i did. i pointed my head back down from the source of the rain and walked on to my car.

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