Note 1: When my son physically left me, it created a vacuum. There was no need to do anything for anyone. Being accustomed to taking care of others all my life, suddenly I was faced with the fact that I have to take care of myself only.
After living a life full of tasks and things to do, I had no idea how to do new “that.” The clock stopped. The music was replaced by silence. The bright light was replaced by darkness. From playing in the meadows of life, I now was in the Desert of Death . . . with only a guide—my son.
Hi, my dearest mom, hi. Mom, you are so confused today. Once again we did not write with you for several days. I know that you have a lot of questions on your mind: what to do and which direction to go?
This is what I have to say to you mom: you are not ready? Don’t go anywhere yet. Just go with what the day presents to you.
Remember G-d has a plan for you and it will unfold. Stick to the basic and stay with the routine. Eat right, walk, and clean what needs to be cleaned.
You must take care of yourself. It is not easy but you must do it. You must create a new flow. The Flow within without us being physically present in your face.
Yes, Mom, you have to swim for your life, one stroke at a time.
It does not matter if you’re the last one in the pack—I was that once. What counts mom, is that you were there and did not give up. That is what being brave means, mom.
(Here, in regard to swimming: He was referring to the first few months after joining the swim team in which he always came in last. I was so proud that he kept going to practices and eventually got stronger and wasn’t last anymore.)
Don’t think about what, how, where, etc. You will be guided. There is a plan for that.
Focus on you, one stroke at a time. If you need time to stop and cry, do so. Then start again and again. Not only will I be watching you from above, I will be swimming right next to you.
Note 2: Every conversation at this time was with the focus to help me deal with the need to make a headstone for him. What can be more challenging than for mothers, parents, to be faced with the fact and a need to order a monument for their child? What else?
From that point on (for about eight months), I was going to sleep and wake up with thoughts about the earthly obligations for the burial service. I did not know how to approach that.
The need to make a headstone hung on my head and was crushing me. I felt like I was pressed between rocks or put through a meat grinder, and it was breaking me to the smallest particles.
Every night I went to bed in excruciating pain. As we were thinking about his headstone, we started to think about headstones for the rest of the family. This is why our conversations at this time were really intense.