The last day of August always brings me grief.
The anemic bleating of the end of summer crickets, the early darkness, the chill in the air.
Seventeen years ago on this day my son was killed in a car accident.
The raw, brutal grief of those days is gone but in its place is the patina of years and opportunities missed.
This year the anniversary is on a Sunday - the exact day of the week the accident occurred. I have no idea why that makes a difference but this year it did.
I remember the first nightfall without him and the confusion of shattered routines. How will I ever sleep again? What do I do with his laundry?
I had purchased a case of Diet Coke for him that day. I kept the last can from that purchase in the fridge for about 10 years.
I forced myself to go out for awhile today with a cousin.
We went to some farm markets and found a new bar/restaurant. We planned a couple of future get aways and it kept my mind on the future.
I’m glad I did.
Sometimes (not very often) I feel the need to share a little bit about this especially on anniversary dates.
Not to elicit any sympathy but to remember his existence.
I’m sorry, @Ellecram. Death anniversaries are rough. I wish for you a day of gentle, happy memories. He’s still with you so long as you remember. Big hugs to you.
A sadness that never leaves you connected to a holiday is difficult.
Sorry to hear that you had to endure this kind of tragedy.
Back in 2008 newspapers were still fairly popular and it was a long standing family habit to get a newspaper to clip the obituary (which I wrote).
Since it was the Labor Day weekend holiday my son’s death made front page headline news which was connected to the holiday traffic accident statistics.
This startled me quite a bit.
One detail I’ll always remember is the name of the police officer at the scene who wrote up the report.
Christopher Robbin.
I happened to come across his name a few years ago at work and was surprised that he is still working in that capacity.
That’s a name I’ll never forget
And I thank everyone for your hugs and thoughts.
Sometimes it helps to share.
I’m sorrier than I can say that you lost your son.
Because we’re so afraid of emotion in this country, people may not mention him. You may therefore assume he’s been forgotten. I assure you that’s not the case. He lived and mattered.
My husband (my Other Shoe) died on Labor day weekend.
It’s been over a decade, but I still can’t think or talk about him without tears. Makes people get all wonky, so I just don’t mention him much anymore.
Still think about him. Miss him like you wouldn’t believe.
Ten years is a long time and a lot of grief but time doesn’t seem to erases the flow of tears. It’s hard to lose someone so special and you are always connected.
I get not mentioning it much. It does make people uncomfortable and I don’t want to do that.
We never stop missing them.
Traveling and get togethers with friends and cousins has been a survival tactic for me and one of the best ways for me to stay focused on the future.
As long as I have something to look forward to I can calm the panicky feelings that surface unpredictably.
Oh shoe I can’t believe it’s been that long already. Hugs to you and the others that have posted about losing someone close - I hope you all feel like the Dope is always a welcoming place when you need to talk about it.
My grandmother lost her son when he was 30 years old. My cousin was 10 years old at the time of his father’s death, and my grandparents raised him. Until he, too, died suddenly at 19 years old.
The immediate aftermath was difficult for everyone. I didn’t know what to do to comfort her. It was very hard seeing someone I loved in that much pain. My uncle and I were only five years apart, but we never got on well, so it was like losing a jerk older brother - but a brother nonetheless. But I have been surprised at how my grandma has coped since these two tragic deaths. She’s always been the one who needs to feel needed, so she has carried on taking care of her husband (who is 20 years older) and her grandkids. She even takes care of elderly friends. I try to be the lowest maintenance, least expensive grandkid (and I’m a lot older and a lot more independent) but I think having all these people to manage really helps her endure.
I promised my grandfather, who is 86, that I would take care of her after he passed. I just don’t know how she’s going to manage when it’s her that needs taking care of.
Your grandmother sounds like a very special woman. I hope the years ahead treat her gently. You’re blessed to have her in your family.
After my son died I decided that I would do what I could to make people’s lives a little better whenever I could and to bring laughter to the people around me.
It took some years to recover to where I could function but I found purpose again.
For a long time I helped take care of aging aunt and another uncle after my son died but they passed about 5 years ago. I helped my brother and father but they are now gone as well.
I am glad I was able to help them a little bit during their last years.
