From my journal dated December 7, 2002:
I stopped by the cemetery yesterday. I was just so sad and missed Jason so much! All of me cries out for him to be here.
Someone had left 18 long-stemmed, red roses. They were so beautiful. I don’t know who left them, but it made me feel less alone to know that someone took the time to remember Jason.
Sometimes it seems like everyone has moved on, and here we are facing Christmas with a horrendous hole in our family and in our hearts. We just all feel so alone. Sometimes someone will call, but it still doesn’t feel like a call every once in a while is any type of support.
D.G.* called on Tuesday. Haven’t heard from her in months and months. I hate it when people call once every few months, and then expect me to answer the question, “How are you?” It’s always asked in this hyper-sympathetic tone. Like I’m going to be transparent about the most sensitive, deepest hurt in my life – losing my precious Jason! Especially to someone who hasn’t had the guts or even bothered to call once in months! Calls like that just make me mad and tire me out! If they really cared, they would have called earlier…and more often!