‘Tis The Season…Or Is It?

December 3, 2024

I haven’t been writing very much since Thanksgiving. I usually try to write something every day but haven’t had the mental strength to do it.

My first major holiday without John was rough. My sister-mom always tells me to give myself grace.

“You are way too hard on yourself, Shari”, she always says.

My mom used to say the same thing.

I guess that’s why I call Cindy, my sister-mom.

I know I should be more forgiving of myself when I’m struggling, and boy am I struggling right now.

But it’s so hard.

The most difficult part for me on this roller coaster ride called grief, is regret. There were warning signs leading to John’s murder, but I didn’t take them as seriously as I should have. Living with his girlfriend had always been chaotic. One minute they’re up. The next minute they’re down. Then for a time it would be smooth sailing. Until the next tsunami.

I had no idea who this eighteen-year-old kid was when he entered onto the scene, but I do remember him entering because that’s when things began to get much worse. There were two occasions when John had to come back to our house because of trouble with that kid. John did not want him around but that didn’t stop him from coming, or from her allowing him in that house. I will speak the truth from my point of view and if people don’t like it, that’s their problem. This blog is about my personal experience as I tried to deal and heal from my son’s murder.

I was the one who saw knots on my son’s head from altercations with Miller the Killer several weeks before he was. John had a RIGHT to say who he wanted coming in and out of his house and his stance shouldn’t have been ignored. It was totally disrespectful to him as a man. She should have LISTENED to him.

I tried to stay out of his business. John was no longer a child. He was a man now, and in his late twenties. There comes a time when a mother has to step back and let her son become the man he’s meant to be. That’s what I was trying to do the last several years of John’s life.

Had I known stepping back would result in him no longer being here, I would’ve stepped right back in.

I would have listened more.

I would have loved harder.

I would have rescued him.