There are simply...

There are simply no words to describe the anger that I am feeling today about the fact that my son Jeff died on April 11, 2007.

We have yet to purchase the tombstone for Jeff's gravesite.
We have yet to purchase the tombstone for Jeff's gravesite.
We have yet to purchase the tombstone for Jeff's gravesite.
We have yet to purchase the tombstone for Jeff's gravesite.
Jeff's gravesite.
Jeff's gravesite.
Gravesite
Grave site.

Jeff's.

I woke up this morning and that was the very first thing that I thought about.
This was followed by the stark realization that NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO WAKE UP TO A THOUGHT SUCH AS THIS ONE.

Last week, I met a woman whose son killed himself. Yesterday, I spoke to a woman whose son was shot. Sometimes I think to myself "Well, at least Jeff didn't die like that. God, I am glad that I am not that person!" That kind of thinking is simply bull. Neither of those situations negates the fact that my son, my beautiful son, Jeff, is dead.


Today I realize that the person who gave the eulogy at Jeff's funeral --
Jeff's funeral -- JEFF'S FUNERAL- JEFF'S FUNERAL
That person was not me.
That person was the person I want to be.
Today I don't see God, I don't feel God. I don't hear God.
I see and feel darkness around me.

My son Jeff -- my beautiful blue eyed son -- Jeff, the crazy mischievous Jeff -- died on April 11, 2007 of a brain aneurysm.

And I am furious at the world for turning against me, against Doug, against everything I dreamed of for my family, EVERYTHING -- WENT UP IN FLAMES THAT EVENING.

Everything imploded.

Never to be the same.