Normally I wouldn't take to facebook to air my family grievances. I was so angry I let loose and then I posted it here as well.
My cousin Dave saw it, stepped up and apologized for not thinking and promised to come to the service. He did. For that I'm grateful.
The service was hard to get through. My brothers childhood friend spoke so kindly and so eloquently of my brother. He had funny stories to tell about their childhood and brought back things I hadn't thought of in years.
It made it a little easier. Thank goodness none of my brothers so called friends showed up. I don't know what I would've done. It's the main reason the obituary was not posted in the paper but rather just on the funeral homes website. The last thing I wanted was any of his druggie friends showing up.
I sorta feel like it was all so surreal.
I have no real closure. I didn't see him at the end. In a way I'm glad I didn't, and yet, without seeing him, I can't wrap my mind around the fact that I never will see him again.
I keep thinking I should have turnip at dinner. He was the only one that liked it. Or to remind Chrissy to make 2 apple pies so Mike would have one to take home. Arrange a ride for him as always.
It feels strange.
I just hope he's at peace. What he did may have been the cowards way out, but at least it wasn't a violent death. He simply went to sleep and never woke up.
Hubs was traumatized after visiting the Seaton house to collect Mike's I.D. He said it was just as well he went cos had I had to go he thought I'd have nightmares and never get a solid nights sleep again.
The desperation, the mental illness, the sour smell of men who don't bathe often enough and the sheer patheticness broke his heart.
We all carry our burden of guilt in not making room for him here and yet at the same time, he needed more help than we could give. He refused treatment, he refused to believe he needed help. You can't force a grown man into it. He had to want it. He didn't.
I had a very tough time of it. I was so, so very tempted to go buy cigarettes to help me through it. I didn't give in to that urge or the urge to smoke pot, in order to forget, to be able to sleep to handle it. It's the first time in my life I've faced this kind of stress head on without any crutches.
I guess I'm stronger than I thought. I am proud of that. It shows I can get through what life throws at me without that kind of help.
But Jesus, I wish I didn't have to face the task of trying.
I made cookies yesterday in an effort to try and get a little more Christmas spirit going. The gifts are all bought and wrapped, the dinner is ready to go.
Thank God I have Lia and Logan. They keep me focused. Lia especially. She doesn't understand why gramma is sad and she pats my face when I cry and says Gaga? She's been my rock, she's the one I go to when I'm upset. She's always ready with a hug and kiss and wanting to sit on my lap and watch Simon's Cat videos with me on YouTube. It impossible not to smile when she's around.
We have lots of pics of Great Uncle Mike and a few with him holding her and we will tell her about him to keep him alive for her.
Life has to go on, Christmas has to be celebrated and I suppose I should look at it that I was lucky to have my family as long as I did. The glass was half full, not half empty.
It would've been nice to have them around for a lot longer though.