Below is a post written by Jodi.

I get credited with a number of positive traits like strong, capable, generous, and even inspirational. What if I told you that those are lies and you shouldn’t believe them? What if I told you that I am not at all strong, in fact that I am permanently broken and only a fraction of the person I was four years ago. What if I told you that I am sometimes incapable of even the most mundane tasks? And that what you see is what you want to see projected back. We all want to read the story of the hero who overcomes insurmountable odds, inspiring us to overcome our own sorrows and regrets, and I wanted to be that hero. For Caemon, for you, for my daughter, I have wanted to live up to that image. Fake it until you make it, I was told. I showed up to the events, stood on stages and told my son’s story again and again.

Right here on the pages of this blog I lied, or omitted the truth, and sought to project an image of strength and courage. In fact, I was losing nearly every friend I ever had for reasons I couldn’t understand; my marriage was crumbling; my hope dwindling. I drank until I could no more, and I didn’t tell you when I stopped. You might have congratulated me, but I didn’t want the attention on me.

I didn’t want to damage his legacy, my sweet Caemon. Losing almost everything wasn’t part of the story I was trying to write, but it is the truth. In all things, I wish to be truthful. Caemon was the strong one, the generous spirit, the inspirational figure, and I am just trying to be worthy of telling his story.

8 thoughts on “secrets

  1. Jodi, I don’t comment here often, but always read, and my heart has never stopped sending out love to you and your family……I don’t know how anyone lives through the loss of a child without breaking. Humans are fragile. And worthy. Sending extra love to you–you always get to tell your story where, when, and how you want to; I hope readers like me, who are at a distance, connecting with your words, can feel like a support not a burden. You don’t owe us anything, but you have given us so much, sharing your story. And in return, we can give you a compassionate reading, and so very many loving good wishes that perhaps can play a small part in the work of finding the places for you to rest and heal and and whatever else you need.

    • I want to reiterate what Susan said. I just couldn’t have said it better. I read every post and am so profoundly touched by each one. You are loved.

  2. It’s not always easy to share our truths. Thank you for your courage, love. Yes, our son was strong, generous of spirit, and inspirational, but you are too in so many ways, despite what you may think. And, I can’t think of anyone more worthy of carrying his torch than his warrior Mama.

  3. “Caemon was the strong one, the generous spirit, the inspirational figure, and I am just trying to be worthy of telling his story.”

    You are worthy of telling his story. He was strong, generous, and inspirational not just because that was his way, but because you were his mama.

    This truth or any other truth doesn’t lessen that in any way. It makes you human.

    I have been a reader since Caemon was a baby and was “just” BG. I have commented some but not regularly, but like Susan I hope that the love we, your readers, have for your family offers at least some measure of support.

  4. A fellow bereaved mama here, struggling with a mundane task myself and having a bit of a breakdown in Target (I needed a new microwave and did not anticipate the back-to-school crowds nor how they would make me feel). Also struggling mightily in many relationships at the moment, and I’m almost embarrassed by how little effort I’m currently willing to put forth in those tough personal relationships, and how little I’m willing to care. You are here for me right now in this difficult moment, telling me that I am not alone. Thank you for that.

  5. I’m sorry that on top of everything else there is the pressure to be strong. It takes true strength to admit that there are cracks and let others help you. I have always struggled with whether I am doing something the right way, especially parenting. I recently had an epiphany that there is no right way. There are hard days that we do things we said we’d never do again. I hope you can forgive yourself and start new, striving to make choices that feel good to you. My son sometimes throws my failures at me, and I embrace them now knowing that I try to do better and most days succeed. And when I don’t, I ask for help. Hugs to you braving this impossible path.

  6. I agree with the comments above, I too read every post and never forget the journey your family has shared with us. Every time I go to the “O” zoo….I think of your beautiful boy. Live in your truth, sometimes that truth is beautiful, warm, happy, and full of joy and love. Live in your truth, when there are times that truth is cold,ugly, hard, sad, but still full of love. Caemon was who he was while he walked on this earth, because he had the moms that he had. You allowed him to be himself everyday….allow yourself to be human every day as well. Thank you for being honest, it’s so very hard to do. As always you are in my prayers.

Thank you for your replies. We appreciate every comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s