We are going to a BBQ. It is with really good friends but I have to wear a different face. We talk about Jason. That is not the issue, but hearing about everyone elses' joys makes me sadder than sad. I can talk about my daughter but not my son. I want to scream... he is dead and we are not talking about the pain and suffering we are feeling... but I can't and I don't because they know and they don't know what to do for us other than keep us close and say things about Jason. I know this doesn't make too much sense. Just Friday night, one of our friends said that his daugter's bil had a stroke 20 years old. I said I don't think I know him. Friend said... the young man who was at our house for Christmas Eve. He was just like Jason... friendly, outgoing, polite and funny, real funny. I always looked hima and thought of Jason. I thought that was very special to say so, they do think of Jason and do say things but the talking about inane stuff gets more and more difficult. But, I go because, by not going I am not honoring his memory. He would be out having a fun time and would only want us to. So, I tell myself. He was not a mother or father... but I go.
Rebecca, Jason's Mom