When a person dies, invariably skeletons come out of the closet. We all have secrets. After my dad died, as we went through his things, it sent me into a panic about what I didn’t want people to find after I leave this world. I came home and shredded every journal I had ever written.
Today, I went through Zachary’s closet and I found some skeletons. Some literal . . .
Some metaphoric and my self-esteem took a major jolt. I cannot believe the things I found. I am not comfortable sharing the other items nor the writings he left behind. But I want to say out loud that I must be up for the worst mother of the year award. How in the hell did my child have so much going on in his world that I didn’t know about. I was only down the hall. I am shocked, angry, and somewhat hurt. However, knowing him as only a mother can; it does give me more evidence that he did not leave home that night intending to die. If he had planned a suicide, he would have cleaned out his closet. It had to be an accident or a total impulse action influenced by the argument he was having at the time. He would never have left such things to be found by his mom, his dad, his baby brother or his sisters.
Zachary: I hope you saw me clean out that closet and I also hope you saw me give your baby brother your tv and xbox. If you didn’t want him to have them you should have stuck around. I am angry at you today. I wish I could see you to kick your ass. Since I can’t do that, I hope you saw me throw away all your empty boxes since I know how much it meant to you to keep the box from everything you ever had. Mom