Robot Mom

I suppose it’s a pretty good thing I don’t have a gun.

I can’t feel anything for more than a split second. I would gladly shoot myself in the leg in order to create a feeling. Where did guttural, howling Mom go? She was here only a couple of weeks ago. She was a disaster.

I figured I would permanently become guttural, howling Mom after he died. I feel guilty for not howling. I can do it for about ten seconds and then I know I can’t let the howling get to my brain from my heart or my mind would be lost.

I am still a disaster, minus the noise. Minus the feeling.

I get a feeling when I walk in to a Walgreens, where that kid would always talk me in to buying something for him. And I realize, how many things we have been missing and how many things we will miss.

Pass a McDonald’s. “Mom!” I want a Happy Meal! Screech of tires. He got a lot of what he wanted.

When in doubt, do nothing. Don’t be reactive. At the same time, figure out the rest of your life. That takes action. I don’t live anywhere. I don’t have a forwarding address. I don’t have a job Maybe if I did I could break down. As it stands, I cant let my guard down. I think that’s the issue. I was “hospital Mom” for so long. I don’t know where to go from there. I want to go back there because that’s where I left him.

5 Comments

  1. Katie Keller

    There is a book called “A Broken Heart Still Beats” about the aftermath for the parents of a kid dying. I
    Don’t know a thing about it, but always remembered the title. I must say, I look at the pictures of your Ashton frequently…especially the one from “diagnosis day” where he is staring right into the camera. It fills me with such love for him, and the conviction that I know him well. I suspect it’s because he so resembles my son at that age. Never have I been so…wounded by the death of someone I didn’t know.
    A friend of mine who’s baby died at six months found odd comfort in an ancient (for America) cemetary. The numerous graves of long-dead babies and children, and the fact that other parents, centuries ago, had stood where she now stood, also swallowed by despair, made her feel less alone.
    Your fine boy being sick and then dying is the cruelest idea conceivable….really makes one wonder.

  2. Sharon Hartley

    Erin, I found this blog the day I talked to you. I wish I would have known about it all along. I have been reading it everyday. I wish I would have come talk to you when you used to come home every once in awhile but I didn’t want to bother you. I wish I would have taken a picture of Ashton with all of his Phillipsburg friends before he went back into the hospital. I will always remember looking down the street and seeing his soccer goalies out in the yard. I will always remember how Clay and all of the kids would love to come and play with him, how good he was, how competitive he was, how happy he was they were there to play with him and how he never wanted them to leave. I remember before I met you and Ashton, Clay coming home and telling me all about his new friend, Ashton. He told me that he didn’t have any hair because he has cancer and that his dad had passed away. He told me how nice he was and his mom was. He told me that he was going back into the hospital for awhile. I had a few weeks to talk with you and with Ashton. I thought it was so nice of you to tell the kids everything up front and explained it to them. I think they really felt special and grown up that you shared his information with them. I see you as such a strong person and a great mom. My heart goes out to you and your family. I was glad you were our neighbors and was looking forward to Ashton coming home and all of us hanging out again. Then when I saw a for rent sign in the yard, I thought you guys had moved. I felt so sad, because I didn’t know if we would get to see our great new friends, Ashton and Erin, who touched our hearts so much. I knew he was very sick and had a big fight to face, but I just knew in my heart he would beat this and get better. We continued to pray for you guys. When I saw his obituary, I was beyond heartbroken and shocked. I can only imagine what you are going through right now. I pray God wraps His arms around you and helps you through this heart wrenching time to eventually find peace. I will continue to pray for you, Lily, Blaise, and all of your family and friends. Ashton will always be in my heart – thank you for sharing him with us! Sharon Hartley

  3. I can understand how you feel. My four year old son passed in August from the same beast that took your son. He too was in Cincy and had a transplant. Two actually. Nathan relapsed three times-the last one after Gvh and ultimately took his life. So I understand when you say you don’t know who you are bc you were hospital mom for so long. Trying to identify with who we are now is the hardest job-well-along with figuring out why this had to happen at all. It is hard work. I am so sorry about your son and you will be in my thoughts and prayers.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *