My son Adam would be turning 36 years of age this month (4/26) had he not passed from an overdose at the tender age of 24 in ‘06. Back then, I never could have imagined living without my son all these passing years, and yet here I am.
The passage of time allows me to band aid my grief but like with all band aids they lift and fall off… and when they do the grief is so very fresh and painfully debilitating.
I have had many life changes since that awful day when I found out from Detective Angst that my son had died, alone in his car, with people who had seen him lifeless in his car and still did nothing. And while some of these changes have been joyous: children’s weddings, graduations and birth of grandchildren, the essence and purity of total joy has been elusive. I acknowledge that due to this unbearable loss I will never achieve total happiness again. That is reserved for my being reunited with Adam.
I still hope, pray and wish for his return. I still look for him in a crowd. My heart and mind cannot fully accept this loss. I wonder if anyone lives this semi life as I do? Wishing and believing that the return of my son can somehow miraculously occur.
Paula Bruckner
