you/ Mom Hi babe. How's tricks where you are? It seems that it would somehow get easier--this passage of time. And in some ways, it does. It has been so long since my measley five senses have experienced you. But the Sixth Sense, you own that, E! And I'm so relieved beyond comprehension that you do. And that I can, in my complete inadequacy, attempt to comfort others like me with that truth. That our beautiful children are with us....every minute of every day. What a miracle!
To The Other Mothers....you know who you are..... / Mom (and Son) Hi moms. I know how it goes....how you find comfort just doing the research....the clinical and scientifc reading, the white papers....but also the terrible search for those other moms....who have survived...the loss...of their child by suicide.
I'm here. I know how it feels to look at the kids' memorial pages. It hurts. It helps. It's maddening. And insane. But it at least makes you feel your true feelings. Of deep, bad, intense pain. More pain than child birth. And I did that without drugs......yikes. I remember. Physical pain is bad. But what we feel is beyond that.......well beyond that. So, this is for you. My darling, beautiful, complete and perfect mothers in perfect pain. I know you. I am you. You are Loved.
hello. I am Teri. I lost my only child, Eric, on Dec. 7,
2004. I hope it is of some relief to learn that I haven't seen your
original message, because I am now better able to live outside in that
world, rather than rely so much upon the kind and gentle group in which
you've landed. See, dear Charlotte, you've already been led to a
comfortable place. And life for you right now is so dependent upon
your own comfort. Seek it. Cry. Howl. Bawl. Pray. Cuss. Honey,
you do what God makes us do---mourn. Like poor mothers of nature who
have lost what is ours----our baby. There are no words to describe
that feeling. You just plow through it. But know this....You Are
Loved and Your Own Life is Precious. Don't Take It. if you start to
feel so bad that going to heaven prematurally sounds logical, then go
to the professionals---of grief--us, who understand. You are Loved,
but you are in pain. There's a season for everything, turn, turn turn.
It's devastating, what has happened. We are here.
Quote of the Day.... / Mom by yours truly, or was it yours, E?
I like a positive attitude towards life, of course. BUT, the big, big but to my problem with people who only use philosophy and not faith, to muddle through life, is this: suffering and compassion. That's religion, no matter how you package it for modern-day consumer taste. And I should know, 'cause I'm a Prodestant, New Age, Buddah, Hindu, Hippie, Pagen. later, T
(again spelling errors everywhere...who has the time to be a perfectionist, let alone the stamina)
I love and miss you like no one has ever known before me. You know, doncha, 'lil knuckle-head?
Coincidences and Dating / Mom January, 2007
In the here and now.....
Hi Eric. As you know, I like to make an annual attempt at finding True Love. It never works, as one can't go hunting for it. And I taught you this.
But, I've made a new friend. And, gasp, it's a boy. (I know, what do I have in common with that species after age 20, they're totally foreign to me.)
And this is what you wrote to him following a very good first date.
Can I join your cult? (I told my good friend last year I'm so fragile, and so in need of inspiration, that I would gladly follow some whack job religious guru at this point in my life....i mean, what's the down side. ha...kidding. WAYYYY to Midwestern/German cautious to ever do that. Unless I already had a paid publisher in the wings.......
You are right about these crazy, universal truths we humans journey to learn.....and YES, they can't be learned in a book, or with the mind at all. It's the feel of it that carries truth; not the think of it. And I'm a big thinker. It's a blessing and a curse, as are all of our gifts, I guess.
That's why I adopted yoga, and eastern philosophy early in my life.....because I knew I wasn't going to be capable of discovering the Truth with just myself......I needed the guidance of the mystical in my life. And everyone does, they just haven't figured it out yet. Mysticism is the nectar that we all so desperately hunger for. And we also want company in the journey.
Smiling about you,
Rabbi Smooli Rules! / Mom Hi Son. Rabbi Smooli on Oprah today is preaching the gospel about the break-down of American families---dad's who hate themselves, and therefore can't be inspirational or guiding to their kids; moms who are disrespected by their kids because they are cracking under the pressure of trying to hold up all the responsibilities of our lives. And kids who don't love themselves because families are like dorms, filled with strangers doing their "own thing."
NO, WE SAY. Eric knows Rabbi Smooli's theories because they are his mothers, too. He has heard it all and he is laughing that I used to preach these theories in the voice of the elder Jewish matriach who would say "you kids today just don't respect your elders"....yada, yada, yada.
Thank you dear boy for laughing with me about the ugly truth of our own beautiful, great country, and our own flawed family. We don't know how to love the people we love the most, because we dont love ourselves. Because we don't know that we have the touch of God inside us. Eric knew, because I told you, didn't I? I knew, because my Grandma Clark took me to church and they told me.
I hope all my family understand how each is touched by God inside. To be inspired and to inspire. And to laugh and forgive each other for our weaknesses. I taught Eric this.
And Rabbi Smooly (sp) is telling the world!
Shalom!
Fed Up with Phil! / Mom 1/6/07
We were pioneers of our era. We were the parents to a new kind of child, born of the insecurities of his parents. Just as was intended by the creator.
Dr. Phil’s “guests” yesterday were a couple who looked a lot like me and Doug. She was doug, only more articulate. He was me, only less articulate. He was me twenty years ago, before I understood a single thing about myself. Except that I carried this rage, and I didn’t understand it, I couldn’t control it, and it filled me with shame. The rage would “go off” – I’d call doug horrible names, and then collapse into bawling, saying “I can’t live like this” and then the apologies from me would start. And I never knew why it happened, why I couldn’t control these episodes of meltdown.
Dr. Phil assured the couple that even though they have set a 20-year pattern of this behavior, it could be easily fixed and their marriage saved. Whoa. That pisses me off. Where was Dr. Phil when I was working on this “issue” 24/7 going from Dr. to Dr. to diagnose and cure me of migraine headaches, gut spasms, and incurable anger that would normally be stuffed inside to breed depression, but which occasionally erupted in an anger episode like a pimple. The pus of which ended my marriage. And Dr. Phil now is saying the solution is easy. I hate that guy now.
Dr. Phil blows big fat chunks of bullshit all over helpless and suffering couples who need to do what people have done since the dawn of time---take inventory every day of how to be a better person and THEN ACT ON IT! DUH.
Poetry/ Mom Hi baby. As I take solace in the great poets, I learn ever more about my one true love. My inspiration of the day is poet Louis Aragon (born Oct. 3, 1887).
"Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash."
How very interesting that I so admire my checkerboard kitchen floor, where black and white co-exist so swimmingly, so artfully. I miss your sense of beauty and design. And your humor. You were like a very young Johnny Carson. I miss your sophistication, in such an unlikely package. I hope you have a beautiful holiday where you are. How could it be anything but beautiful if you are at its epicenter. I miss your midst.
Love, Mom
Prayer to forgive / Richard Groft (Grandfather) I pray each day tht Teri finds the forgiveness that she so ardently seeks. I pray daily the Becky, Doug, Katie, Grandpa, Grandma, and all the other family members can help each other forgive this terrible tragedy that has befallen this family. We can only guess how hurt each has been and how hard it has been to understand why ? I think only of my little boy who I can't take fishing or go to his graduations and wonder Why? I am equally sure that the smame thoughts have entered the minds of other family members and we can't know why? So to each who might have wondered WHY, some small emotion of forgiveness must at some point, replace the WHY emotion!! Its Hard!!
Missing You Still / Mom Hi Sweetie. I know you've learned how to move things 'cause I've noticed a lot of activity along those lines....you know what I mean, huh?
Forgiveness is the hardest part of this entire journey, Eric. Of course, I've forgiven you. I know you acted on what was in your heart and mind at that specific moment.....as they say "a permanent solution to a temporary problem."
I knew that our lives would always be touched by that spontanaiety that made you so fun and engaging but could also cause drama and pain.
Have I forgiven myself? It's a moving target. Depends on the day, the moment. If a child happens to skateboard by, I can be traumatized again. If the television shows a hanging, I can become physically sick. Sometimes I just can't believe that I lost you. And then I get mad at myself for not having done more....more to get you help, more to build bridges with the Groves. Sometimes I regret not having fought for sole custody, because I know the divorce and it's aftermath was so stressful on you. And on me, which I know you felt, even though I tried so hard to see my life's glass as half full and to teach you about abundance. So, I don't know if I forgive myself.
Do I forgive others? Again, a moving target. I don't believe anyone has shown more forgiveness than me. That makes it tough, because my expectations were always greater than Doug could deliver. Or Katie. My expectation was that we could be respectful and mutually supportive toward your best interest. But your dad couldn't deliver that. He never could. And I kept expecting it anyway. I always believed in him, despite all the evidence against it.
You may or may not know of all the ways in which your father and stepmother attempted to hurt me. I didn't want you to know. Toward the end, it became impossible to protect you. I regret that because I can imagine how confusing it must have been to witness. Do I forgive your other family for the way they treated me? It is something I pray about.
As I always told you. The Grove family is your family. They love you. Just as the Groft family loves you.
If love could have saved you, you would still be alive. That makes me proud. That you had so much love in your life. And you still do Eric. It's just that most people don't know what to do with their feelings. Sometimes, anger, regret, blame, remorse, guilt....all the painful emotions---are the ones that demonstrate how we love.
Becky made this memorial site for you because she knows how important it is for mom to feel. And to express my feelings. Just like you, huh?
I feel so sad and lonely. I feel your magic---in the stars, and the candle flame, and the songs I hear and the brief whiff of a smell that seems familiar. I know you are with us.
Please help us better understand forgiveness.
All my love forever,
Momma
Conversations with Eric / Teri (Mom) Wed. November 15, 2006
Eric wanted me to be friends with his step mother.
“You would really like her mom, I swear,” he said, enthusiasm and persuasion dripping from his pores, his trademark gap toothed grin beaming. “She’s a lot like you. You both love to shop and you’re both funny. C’mon, Mom, you need to give Katie a chance, that’s what you’re always telling me, right?”
As Eric was talking, I was remembering a movie with Susan Sarandon and Julia Roberts, where after an initial rough patch the two ladies became close friends, despite the fact that Roberts’ character married Sarandon’s ex-husband and become stepmother to her two children. It was a good movie, and hopeful, but unrealistic, as most movies dealing with divorce and death are. I was raw from my divorce. I could never be friends with Katie, because I couldn’t even process how swiftly my tidy and comfortable life had come crashing down on me. I couldn’t even handle the fact that my husband wasn’t the person I thought he was, and now I was being expected to handle with grace a new wife, who had already shown a significant dose of hostility towards me, even though we had never met. She hadn’t shown me the maturity that suggested she understood my position: that her presence in Eric’s life was a delicate and potentially explosively damaging new development. A woman of substance would have understood my position. She would have known that Eric’s feelings, his emotional well being, was the only thing that mattered to me. Not Doug’s feelings. Eric’s. Katie did not understand this. And so her name provoked the same kind of physical response of an animal who was being preyed upon.
“I’m so glad you like Katie Eric. That’s the only thing that’s really required of Katie. To be good to you. As long as she’s good to you, then everything is unfolding the way it’s supposed to.” I had become an expert at “spinning” my version of our breakdown into a framework of normalcy. For Eric.
My skin was crawling and a knot was forming in my throat. The mere mention of her name provoked fierce physical reaction in my central nervous system. It had been pretty easy to manage because Eric was a smart kid, who understood immediately to keep his parents’ issues at each separate home. Except when he was irritable or angry when he would say something that would clearly illuminate to me how separate and different his father’s and mother’s lives had become. Like the time Eric blurted out in an argument in an accusatory tone “you don’t even have a job, mom.”
I was stunned by the comment, because at the time I had two jobs, as an adjunct faculty professor of journalism at Metro State, and a reporter/columnist for the local weekly newspaper. I said, :”Eric, you know that’s not true, because I’ve taken you to my classes at college and you’ve read my newspaper articles. These are my jobs.”
“Yeah but you don’t have an important job that earns money.”
Now it was clear to me that these weren’t Eric’s ideas, but something he had heard at his dad’s house. Taking a deep breath, I smiled to hide my anger at Katie and Doug for apparently dissing my career choices in front of, or worse, directly to Eric.
“Eric, I choose to work at these jobs that might not pay as much as my agency career but these jobs are interesting, they allow me to do the things I do best, and I can spend the time you’re free with you. Every mom on the planet would like to be able to have the schedule I have. If you ever have any questions about me, ask me directly. I’ll always tell you the truth about the decisions I’ve made in my life.”
This is when I knew the reason why I could never be friends with Eric’s stepmother. And why I could not co-parent successfully with my ex-husband, despite the fact that it was my number one goal in life: to successfully parent Eric. And I failed. And Doug failed. And that’s the truth. And I seriously doubt that any Hollywood movie can depict this in a hopeful manner.
The pain / Donna Adams (friend) Ho my name is Donna and I too lost my 14yr old son Jonathan on October 18, 2004. I unfortunately can say I know what you are going thru and this is this is worst nightmare one could ever imagine. I hope we both find hope and peace one day. Love and Hugs
Sisters and Road Trips / Mom Today when Eric and I were watching Oprah and Gail's road trip across America in a nostalgic "See the world today, in a Chevrolet" tribute, it brought up the memory of Beck & my own Big Road Trip.
Eric had never heard it. Beck was between jobs--pondering a decision between law school or a continued degree in criminal justrice, where the dirtiest jobs are done, at great cost to human spirit and at very low pay.
I was fresh out of college and FREE, FREE, FREE. Picture Goldie Hawn with a diploma and very naive about any kind of human suffering. We were both adventureous. So we decided to take our dad's truck on trip down to Texas to visit one of the nation's top penetentaries. What do I know from jail, and good and evil and having to always protect myself. I want to drink beer in campground with new people we meet and invite to our tent for sausage and crackers. Becky knows in her 25 year old criminal justice professional head that anybody camping in a campground near a penetiatary is probably a psycho, murderer, terribel, evil person. Teri doesn't even know that evil exists.
So Becky get pissed at Teri for inviting a stranger to our campsite for a beer and in a "protective protest" Beck drove Dad's truck straight into a tree. At which point loopy, non negative Teri says "see, if you'd just chill out a little this kind of bullshit wouldn't happen."
We didn't speak for states. Until the sheer bordom and the realization that we were struck together for many, many, more hours finally prevailed. At which point we discovered Dad's CB radio and adopted the personas of Sugar Britches and Twin Raisins. Teasing truck drivers with those silly names was the closest thing to Porn that we had back then. And it seemed to be the right medicine for a couple of sisters who needed some estrogen balance.
Eric loves any and all road trip stories.
Kick 'ass boots! / Mom Happy Sunday. After church today, I decided to take my $100 birthday money to a store and see what might strike my fancy. I haven't been into shopping much, so I decided to just wander around and see if anything jumped into my cart.
Shoes. Always a good aisle to wander, right girls? Torn between some really great Italian boots and a more sensible pair of loafers, I just decided to can it. I mean really, if shopping gets to be confusing, just walk away. Am I right?
But then something happened. I knew that my mom wanted the loafers and Aunt Sharon wanted the boots. Eric had to step in and say, "it's gotta be the boots, ladies."
Aunt Sharon was beaming, and Mom's like, "Eric, who's team are you on anyway."
And Eric told them about the time Grandpa Dick sent $50 for his birthday with clear instructions to mom and dad that they were to buy him some cowboy boots. "No grandson of mine is ever going to go without cowboy boots as long as I'm alive to make sure it doesn't happen." That's what Eric told Vyrleen and Sharon. They laughed and Eric loves the attention. "But that's not the end of the story, ladies," Eric smiled with a bit of a mischievious grin.
And then he told them about another boy who had been wanting cowboy boots for a long time. He returned from miles to the same store year after year until one year Teri decided that Randy needed some cowboy boots. And Grandpa Dick agreed wholeheartedly. So Randy go his kick 'ass boots. But it was really Eric's idea all the time. Now Vyrleen and Aunt Sharon are in awe of their brilliant Eric.
Because today, Eric's mom got a brand new pair of kick 'ass boots, too.
And so it is. Amen. Shalom. Namastee. Go in peace and love.
Animal Wisdom / Mom Hi Eric. I was reading this book "Getting to Know Jesus Again for the First Time" and it talks about a woman named Sophia Wisdom who is the female counterpart to God. The books says Sophia Wisdom always stays on Earth, helping people find their way as they journey toward God.
Do you suppose that is why you and I came up with the name Sophia for your puppy? Sophia LaRicci, the puppy who needed more love than many others, and in return she gave wisdom. Sounds right to me.
Our critters sure have taught us a lot about life, huh? I know you see all of them regularly and you have a big puppy-ferret-toad-hamster-rabbit-chicken party. Give them all hugs and licky kisses for me, baby.
Lucy and Yogi love to play on your bed all the time, and they are happiest when I rough and tumble with them they way you did. Piss and vinegar, right?
All my love,
Mom
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