The loss of my mother happened many years ago: March 10, 1960. She died 3 days before my 13th birthday and was buried on my birthday, supposedly my "golden" one. I was raised by my father, as my mother was mostly in the hospital until she died. She was in a tuberculosis sanitarium but didn't have TB. She had another lung illness that they really didn't know how to treat back then. The unspoken rule in my family was don't say much, don't feel, don't cry. So I didn't. I went back to school, 7th grade, after the funeral and continued to be an excellent, "model" student. My world had ended...or so I thought inside. I felt so different from the other kids. I was an only child and had no mom.

My 96 year old father passed away on January 31, 2010. Til his dying day, I was never able to please him or get him to love me. I guess he did in his own way, but not the way I needed. I know the circumstances about why he probably resented me and felt burdened by my existence; he had to sacrifice his own needs/desires in order to raise me. But I needed a father, and never really had one. No brothers or sisters to share the experience of losing my mother. However, my father did have a son, my half-brother, who was born when my father was 60. He was the golden child. My father left everything to him. I didn't "need" my father's money, but it was just more hurt that showed how unimportant I was to him.

On March 21, 2013--March has become the "bad month,"--my 41 year old son passed away suddenly while on an anniversary cruise with his wife of nine years. Since he died in international waters and was cremated on the island of St. Maarten, I never got to see him to say goodbye. So while I had these previous two significant losses (plus grandparents, of course), I've never before had a real opportunity to grieve. I am devastated by the loss of my firstborn child, my only son. Yet I find that it's still hard to cry much because of how it was when my mother died. I think I walk around and go through life on auto-pilot. Perhaps the good thing is that I know my child is in a wonderful place and we will be reunited some day. Same with my parents. Losing a child of any age is the worst nightmare imaginable. I love and miss you, Chris.

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At the age of 21, I was pregnant with my 1st child. My mother was killed. She was shot. I cried, until I was sick. My mother never came back. I knew then nothing could make me feel that way again. I raised her two children, my half sister and brother. Their father, my step father drank all the insurance money until he and his new girlfriend/wife loss everything. That has been over 28 years ago.

Now I loss my 20 year old son. He was shot. I am just here now. A warm body on earth.

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