The Last Text

The Last Text

As we sat there at the table remembering him, the conversation naturally evolves.

This is probably one of the biggest things I struggle with and I wasn’t sure if or how I would ever write about it.

That moment

I still blame myself for the day he left.

When he came downstairs frustrated with school and I’m sitting in my office, seeing him put on his jacket, I ask him what he’s doing… and he tells me he’s just going for a drive.

Every one of my alarm bells went off.

Something about that wasn’t right.

I was in the middle of a conversation with a co-worker about something stupid and before I knew it he was out the door.

The last words

I texted him right away…

Just driving? Please be careful.

That’s it. That’s the last thing I got to say to him.

I still blame myself for not stopping him, for not running outside, for not asking him to come talk to me real quick… ANYTHING to keep him from leaving the house.

“You can’t blame yourself”

Everyone tells me (family, friends, therapist, psychiatrist…) you can’t blame yourself.

But I was the one there.

I was the one who felt something was off.

And I was the one who didn’t stop him.

That truth sits on my chest like weight. It is a burden I will always carry.

How did I miss the signs?
Why didn’t I do more?
Why didn’t I stop him?

I don’t know if those questions ever go away.

All I know is this: grief is not just missing someone. It’s also living with the moments you can’t rewrite.