Surrounded by people – but still alone

It’s Christmas Eve tonight.  One year ago, this very moment, I was tucking my son into bed and preparing to wrap his presents for his first Christmas.  Looking back, I am glad that I was unaware of how bad things would get.  I was able to celebrate my son’s first Christmas like he would have so many more.  It was my son’s first Christmas, but it was also his last.

I didn’t go shopping this year and I haven’t been able to listen to Christmas music.  Nothing seems to matter without Prince.  I have been smiling to make others happy and going through the motions, but truth be told – I wish this holiday would just pass this year. It’s just another day that I have to wake up without my baby boy.

I woke up this morning and my first thought was how I needed to go get Prince.  Then, I remembered  that he was gone.  Even though its been nine weeks since he passed away, I still wake up sometimes and its like he is dying all over again.

My belief in God might be what’s keeping me from completely falling apart.  While so many people have tried to comfort me by saying that Prince is in a better place, this doesn’t seem to give me peace.  A better place for Prince would be here on earth where he would be allowed to live out his life.  Instead, he was never given that chance that he deserved.  So while he is not here suffering along side his grieving Mama, I am not so sure that he is in a better situation than he would be had he been allowed to live.

 

So right now as the police, the judge, the lawyers, the prosecutors, and the medical examiner all sit down with their families and prepare to spend the holiday full of joy and happiness, I remember the one Christmas my son was allowed to have.  I think about how this Christmas I will be visiting his grave instead of watching his face light up with joy while opening presents.  It’s this time of year when people take a vacation from things like death, duty, and “solving murders”.  Instead, they hug their children extra tight and thank God they aren’t me tonight.

 

I am surrounded by what feels like thousands of people, but tonight – I am completely all alone.  I am left with the thoughts of my dead son.  The child I was not allowed (by law) to protect.  I was a mother interrupted and my son was living on borrowed time.

 

Though my son was a shining star in my life, these past three years have been full of pain.  I grieve my son, but I have been grieving the loss of happiness, innocence, and justice since the day I left the devil.  I took my newborn son out of what I knew to be a life threatening situation and the courts send him right back.  I was not allowed to be his mother.

 

I sit here tonight remembering my son and thinking about all the things I wish he could have done – the places he could have seen – and the milestones he should have met.  I wonder when it will be that I am aloud to live my life and leave this monster in the shadows where he belongs.

 

So tonight, I don’t feel thankful for much in the face of this terrible loss.  I do, however, thank God for the fire burning rage I have inside of me.  It is this rage that keeps me fighting for Justice.  While I know that all of those who had a hand in killing my son will one day have to answer to God for their sins, I am certain that God left me behind to make sure that these same people don’t get away with these same sins here on earth.  Bottom line – there is nothing scarier to a public servant who has done wrong than a mother scorned.  There is nothing scarier to a psychopath than a woman who is not afraid to shine a light on what he really is.

Screaming at the top of my lungs

Today I spent most of my day on a plane traveling.  Looking out at the clouds, my thoughts were a reflection of how my mind is racing in a million directions.  I wondered how my son was doing in heaven, if he was mad at me for not fighting hard enough to protect him, whether Luc would ever have to pay for all the terrible things he has done…

Amongst these thoughts, I also wonder how I will feel once I slow down.  Ever since Prince died, I have been running.  I have been running and “screaming”.  By “screaming” I mean that I have been screaming to everyone who will listen to me through my writing and through my words about what happened to my son.  I haven’t just been screaming since Prince died.  In fact, I started screaming the moment I left Luc’s hellish cave.  The difference now is that it seems as if people are finally listening.  It kills me that it took my son’s death for others to realize what I have known since the moment I walked out of that man’s house and saw what he really was.
Seven weeks ago, I had to take my baby off of life support after learning that his brain was officially dead.  Though I have been trying to run away from the memory of that night, its times like this when those memories creep back into my mind.  I was holding Prince when his heart stopped beating.  I remember wearing a white adidas jacket – he bled all over my sleeve.  I remember feeling completely helpless because no matter what I did – I couldn’t do the only thing I wanted in the world to do.  I couldn’t bring my little boy back.
Last night I was on the phone with a friend.  As I told him about all the plans I had and how I wanted to hold people accountable, he stopped me and said, “You need to grieve.  You can do it now – or later – but you need to grieve.”
He’s right and I know this, but I’m scared.  I’m scared because there is nothing I can do with those thoughts.  I am scared that if I let them in, I won’t get out of bed.  I am scared that I will die right along side my son.
I am also determined not to let Luc have that sort of power over me.  Psychopaths count on scaring their victims into silence.  I will not allow him to do that to me.
So I sit here thinking about how I will “strike a balance” between grief and strength.  I cannot slow down until I am sure my son will not be forgotten.  I think about Prince every day and every minute.  I think about all the things I wish I had done and all the things I wish he had been able to do.  Lately, however, I have also thought about the things that I can do in order to be sure that Prince (through his memory) still has an impact on the living.
Several of my friends and family have expressed the reality in how dangerous it is for me to speak publicly about what Luc has done to me and my family.  I understand that danger better than anyone (because I lived and continue to live in fear).  That being said, I will not stop because even though I was not first – I want to be the last.  I want to be the last woman who is charmed and conned by this man.  I respect my son’s memory and my role as his mother too much to be silent and hide in a corner because I am afraid.
Yesterday I went to the police station.  Before leaving, I said, “If something happens to me, there is only one person who could be responsible.  I have only one person who wishes I were dead and would do anything to silence me.  One person.”  While nobody likes to hear someone say this to them, I am realistic enough to know that my odds of survival are not as good having been involved with this man.
I could be silenced by fear – but that is not who I am.  I guess I wasn’t the perfect target after all.  This particular con ends with me.