The following was sent to me from a fellow grieving dad Kevin Black. I can relate with many of the same issues Kevin talks about in this posting.
The Unsociable One
My son, Mason, was born in December 2000 with HLHS (Hypoplastic Left-Heart Syndrome). He had his first open heart surgery at 6 days old. Second and Third surgeries at 5 and 6 months. When he was about 16 months old, we were told that he would need a transplant to survive. 6 months later he / we got the transplant. After he got the transplant, he was doing outstanding. He was doing well till April 7th, 2012. That morning, he just told his Nana that he was feeling dizzy. He vomited, laid back on the bed, and he was gone. That marks the beginning of our journey through life without my little man………
“Come on. Let’s go out to lunch, today.”
“No thanks, I’m just going to stay at the office today”
It’s been like that since I came back to work 2 days after burying my son. That in itself was a huge mistake that I wish somebody could have talked me out of, but that time has passed.
It’s not because I don’t like the guys at work, that’s not the case at all. They have all been real good to me. While most of them don’t know what to say, I know that any one of them would be there if I needed something. I know I could call on any one of them at any time, day or night, and they would be there. That is somewhat comforting.
For reasons that I cannot explain, I just don’t want to go out with them. Not just that, I don’t want to be in the office with them. I don’t want to be anywhere. Most of the time, I sit at work in a daze. I spend a lot of time searching the interwebs looking for other grieving parents; reading their stories so that I can relate to them. I do the bare minimum for my projects. I put in zero extra effort. I don’t have the desire to be the best at what I do like I used to. I find that I can’t concentrate on things anymore. My memory is just about completely shot. If I don’t write it down, I probably won’t remember it. I can’t perform like I used to. Bigger problem is that I don’t care. Coming back here so soon when I really didn’t want to be here has left me with a feeling of resentment toward my job.
Those that knew me before know that I was a pretty easy going guy. I never got wound up about anything. I was the first guy in the office every morning and the last one to leave. That guy is not here anymore. I hope that I will be able to maintain some sort of normalcy through this unending process.
I struggle to sit through meetings. I feel like I’m fighting off a panic attack while sitting at the conference table. That is so unlike me. I have found myself getting more and more aggravated with people in general. As Kelly has written in a previous entry, my filter is pretty thin. I don’t have any issues with speaking my mind anymore. Sometimes, it’s probably a little harsher than necessary. Still, I’m not going to apologize for that. This freedom of expression is kind of liberating, but the cost of getting to this point is way too expensive.
All that being said, I am truly thankful for my family and friends. I hope that none of them ever have to experience this. I am extremely thankful for Brandi and Isabella being here. If not for my two girls, who knows where I would be.