Bad day. Same as last year...

Today is the sixth anniversary of my son’s suicide. My birthday was two days ago. I’m 60. My husband is at work until tomorrow morning.
The temperature here is higher than it’s ever been, I think, so, I can’t get up the energy to do anything.

I’m having a pretty hard day. :frowning: At least, it’s almost over. I’ll go to bed soon. Maybe tonight will be a Benadryl™ night.
That’s all. I just had to vent.

I’m so sorry you’re having such a bad day. I haven’t ever had to deal with a close relative, much less my own child having done something like that. I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry for your loss.

I can definitely relate to the heat issues. We went out to dinner tonight just so we could escape the heat. It was 95 frickin’ degrees here at my house.

Happy Belated Birthday, for what it’s worth. I at least wanted to acknowledge that.

Thank you, dear. I do appreciate it.
I’ve cried so much today, with the heat, I’m afraid if I move around much, I’ll get dehydrated. (sigh)
I’ll be better tomorrow, when Hubby gets home.

Sorry about your loss. Venting is good for you, hon.

Our wishes are with you and your family as well.
Vent more where applicable.

Hugs.

Pull out the childhood photos and smile at the good memories. Stop thinking about 6 years ago and start thinking about when he was 6 years old. I think about my dad taking me swimming on days like that…not him hooked up to machines off-and-on for years. Seems to help.

-Tcat

picunurse, please accept a hug and a glass of cool water. I hate heat and humidity, myself, and I know how they sap energy, making sorrow even worse. I can’t do much about the ache, but I do offer you my sympathy. There are a bunch of us here for you. Please do take care of yourself, difficult as it is, and picture a bunch of us Dopers lined up with beverages of your choice, fans or air conditioners, and lots of shoulders to cry on. We’ll even bring you ice cream, if you like. I can’t give you what you want most; I wish I could.

Be well.
{{{{{{picunurse}}}}}

Death anniversaries are the worst. All you can do is take care of yourself and ride it out.

Hang in there.

picunurse, I’m so very sorry you’re down. I’m sending some cool breeze from the bay area your way, a virtual ice cream cake for your birthday, and a big hug.

Death anniversaries are awful.

I’m so sorry Picu. {{{{{{{{Picu}}}}}}}}}

picunurse, have a hug {{{here}}

I’ll let you know on July 29th, when I need mine, ok?

My dad had a massive stroke on July 26th, 14 years ago this year. We had him disconnected from the breathing apparatus the night before, and he died in the morning of the 29th.

My sister’s birthday.

{{{PICU}}} There’s really not much one can say except to let you know you’re in my thoughts and prayers. May you find some peace and comfort today.

You’re in my thoughts.

{{{picunurse}}}

picu, lean on us, sweetie. No one person can make it better for you but a bunch of us can ease it somewhat. {{{picu}}}

picu, we’re listening.

Venting is good.

Tell us a story about your son. What’s your happiest/funniest/silliest memory of him?

I’ll try.
I was intrigued by colored contacts once. I have very dark brown eyes. I bought a pair of saphire blue contacts with no correction, just to change my eye color.
I lived here in Seattle and Michael lived in LA. I flew down for vacation. I arrived at LAX at a fairly slow time. He met me at the gate, running up and swinging me into the air.
He had the biggest grin on his face. Without changing expression, he said, “Mom! I’m so glad you’re here! When we get home you have to take those OUT!”
He hid them from me for my whole vacation.

Michael used to tell anyone who would listen, that I was the smartest person he knew (I think he was the smartest I’ve ever known.) On one visit, his friends were having a birthday party for him.
When we arrived, he introduced me by my given name. After being there for an hour or so, he gathered everyone together and announced that I was the coolest “MOM” on the planet. The party stopped like an E.F. Hutton commercial. (there were several questionable activities going on) But, he didn’t care, he was proud to be my son and wanted everyone to know it.
Thank you… That made me smile and I needed that.

Aw, he sounded like a wonderful person.

Hugs to you Picunurse.

Hugs and prayers headed your way, picunurse.

With the passing of another year, the proof comes that we are at once lucky to be alive, and mournful to be so.

You’ve weathered another winter. Blessings to you on your birthday, and strength for your soul.

{{{picunurse}}}

many, many hugs to picunurse