Walking My Road Of Grief
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My son committed suicide, at the age of thirteen, on January 25, 1995. This was by far the hardest lick life has hit me with. Yet my son prepared me as best he could for his death. I missed the signs at the time. I remember after a young lady's funeral, Brandon made the statement, "Dad that was a cool funeral. I want you to promise me to do my funeral when I die". I remarked, "You will see me die first." He insisted that I promise him if something happened I would do his funeral and I agreed. He also prepared me the day of his death. I took him to school and as he got out he turned and said, "...
My son committed suicide, at the age of thirteen, on January 25, 1995. This was by far the hardest lick life has hit me with. Yet my son prepared me as best he could for his death. I missed the signs at the time. I remember after a young lady's funeral, Brandon made the statement, "Dad that was a cool funeral. I want you to promise me to do my funeral when I die". I remarked, "You will see me die first." He insisted that I promise him if something happened I would do his funeral and I agreed. He also prepared me the day of his death. I took him to school and as he got out he turned and said, "Dad you know I love you?" I told him, "I love you too." He said, "Dad, no matter what happens, know that I love you." I said, "Okay". And he then replied, "You're a cool dad". Those were the last words on this earth that I heard from my son. That afternoon he was dead. I said all of this to come to the book. The book consists of the time frame following his death. Now the mystery is the poems. I have never written poems before so all of this is a mystery to me. The poems would come all at once. The title first, then the poem and most of them came during the night. I would be awakened with verses running wild in my brain. Grabbing a pen and paper I would write as fast as I could. When I was through I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I never had a clue to when they would come. Now this book is written within the arena of feelings. I know facts about his death but I concentrated on the feelings. Knowing all the facts doesn't ease the pain. I will not point the finger at anyone for each of us involved must take responsibility for our actions. God will be our final judge. So stay with me with feelings as we walk together, my road of grief.
