This is how long Ron has been gone: 1½ years, or 18 months, or 78 weeks or 548 days. In the early weeks after Ron died, people would occasionally ask if I could sense his presence with me. I would occasionally fudge my answer and say yes, mostly because people expected that I would and because others reported sensing messages from their loved ones who had passed. I was never actually sure of what the question meant and would answer in different ways according to different people or circumstances. But mostly it seemed true but not in the way people thought. Ron seemed to be with me because the separation was not real to me. The primal connection could not be abruptly severed. It was impossible to suddenly let him go. I have since learned that cells from the child remain inside the brain of the mother for always. Continue reading “Watching for Signs”
Author: Marguerite Sexton
I was born in 1943, the 4th of 5 kids. My parents died when I was 8 and 18 respectively. I am fortunate to have been born to really nice people. My siblings and I sort of raised each other. I am married to Tom Sexton, the sweetest man on earth. My two sons, Ron and Joe, were from my first marriage. Tom brought three kids into our marriage, Tom Jr., Sean and Nicolle. I have lost many loved ones, most notably my mom and dad, my sister, Mary, at age 38, my brother Jack in January of 2015 and my beloved Ron on Christmas morning of 2015. I am grateful for all these beloved people who wait on just the other side of the thin veil.
One Mother’s Grief on Good Friday at the Gun Shop
When our son, Ron, died by suicide on Christmas morning of 2015, he left a careful trail of inform
ation so that we would have as few unanswered questions as possible. He took as many extraordinary measures as he could think of to make the impact of our losing him somehow comprehendible. One of the details he attended to was to provide full information about the purchase of the weapon he used to take his life, a gun. Continue reading “One Mother’s Grief on Good Friday at the Gun Shop”
Trader Joe’s, Jamaican Beer and Resurrection
Ve
ry recently I was in Trader Joe’s, mindlessly wandering around there as I am wont to do. I was in the soft drink aisle with my right hand on a four-pack of Jamaican brewed ginger beer when a woman beside me softly said, “Does that taste good?” Continue reading “Trader Joe’s, Jamaican Beer and Resurrection”
Christmas Morning, 2015 – 9:10 AM
This is not the way I wanted it
It isn’t what I deserve
It isn’t what I planned
But it is what it is
It’s the dharma.
It’s that which is
Taking one more glance at a newspaper article on my way out the door to mass, I read that Buddhist quote above and said to Tom, “What an unusual quote to read on Christmas morning.” Continue reading “Christmas Morning, 2015 – 9:10 AM”
Grief Warrior 