• Bluelight
    Shrine




    A memorial
    to Bluelighters
    who have passed away

Transcendence

You were four years old and I came home from work. Removed my jacket. Your little hands running through my coat. I always brought home a treat. Some hershey kisses. Kit kat, A Kinder Egg from Germany. The happiest you'd get all day. Jumping, bouncing on our waterbed.

"What do you want me to be when I grow up, daddy"? "err...a scientist". "YEAH!"

And you loved reading about the solar system, and you loved dinosaurs and you loved the forest and all the life around you. And you were so smart. So smart. We read to you every night at bedtime, until we realized you were reading the next line before myself or mommy did. And then it didn't matter whether I had read you the book before. In second grade your teacher described how you went through all of the ELA curriculum workbooks she had in the classroom and circled the grammatical mistakes that slipped by the publishers.

Then mommy died with your brother and you stopped talking to me. You just read and read. About everything. I don't know if you found any answers there. In high school when you tried to change your brain by weaving it with phenethylamines and tryptamines and dissociatives and thc, I don't know if you found any answers there. When you graduated first in your class you thought that you didn't deserve it because you didn't try. When you got into college for free you thought it was a joke. I know you skipped class and spent most of the time stoned with your friends out in the orchard. I was once there too buddy.

But you still did it. You became a scientist. You wrote papers, headed labs, performed original research in everything from chemistry to molecular biology to German history. I don't know what you read during those years. Did you like what you found? The world is a cold and unforgiving place.

You were always too self-aware. I remember when you were two years old and riding the carousel on the playground. Your mom smiled and waved at you with a video camera. You looked down, flushed with embarrassment. You were two. I've never seen a toddler express embarrassment before. You were too aware. You did everything you could to dim the light just a little. I wonder if you found relief when you finally hit the switch.

I'm so glad your mom wasn't there. I'm so glad your little brother wasn't there. They're flowers now. You always delighted in life. I couldn't bury you like I did mom or Alex. You went into the oven. Into that bright light you became dark as coal. Nothing grew from your ashes. It's just ashes. It's not you. It's just trash.

When I threw that cheap ash-filled urn out of my car window on the way home, I smiled. I know you wouldn't have given a fuck anyway buddy.

What is life?
 
<3<3<3<3

I think there is nothing more surreal in the world than going to pick up the ashes of your child and whatever you do with them is appropriate because they are not your child. My heart is with you.
 
Your memories are so beautiful and so vivid, and of course you are right that the ashes you cast aside were not your son, any more than Where Wolf's grave contains the shining soul that he was. Transcendence lives up to his name, transcending the worlds of time and space into memory, which is as close to eternity as any of us can reach. You have lost the three souls closest to you; that you are still breathing is a miracle, even if it feels more like a curse to you at times. But life is a gift, perhaps a random one, but a gift nonetheless. I hope you can find the strength to use that gift well. May the memory of your wife and sons inspire you to live as they would wish for you - with whatever grace you can muster.
 
My god, I just keep staring at the avatar that my son chose who knows how long before his death. It's so fitting and meaningful and full of acceptance if not transcendence. In a way I feel like this is his grave. His real grave. Not just a virtual shrine. I think he wants me to move on. The ashes of my progeny and the decomposition of life feed the carbon cycle of some other life form somewhere on this rock.

ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space
 
Transcendence said:
My god, I just keep staring at the avatar that my son chose who knows how long before his death. It's so fitting and meaningful and full of acceptance if not transcendence. In a way I feel like this is his grave. His real grave. Not just a virtual shrine. I think he wants me to move on. The ashes of my progeny and the decomposition of life feed the carbon cycle of some other life form somewhere on this rock.

ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space
Click to expand...

A therapist suggested to me that Caleb's spirit may "need" for me to let go of the pain his death has caused me, is causing me--as if he could not be free if I were suffering. I have a hard time with this concept. For one, it implies that Caleb is still himself. In addition to that it implies that I have control over his destiny. I have never been able to wrap my mind around either of those concepts. I don't dispute them--anything at all is possible and I don't claim to know anything myself; but intuitively I feel that Caleb transcended being Caleb and that any attempts that I had been making to exert control over his life as a mother were also transcended in that moment. I believe that he found peace, that he exists in that peace and I am happy for him when I think this way--it is the source of my own acceptance when I can actually embrace it. I know this is different for everyone depending on their beliefs. My Christian friends offer their beliefs to me as do my Buddhist friends, my agnostic friends and my pagan friends--we are all indeed floating in space and we all try to find a way to make sense of this free-dive. I know that each one of us is blessed with both a rational mind and an intuitive mind. Such loss calls for the intuitive mind. Listen to yours. If it says that your son needs you to move beyond your pain, that is the truth for you. In the belief that says we create reality, it would follow that each of our relationships and bonds is individual and holds its own mystery. I think you are finding clarity. (((<3)))
 
Transcendence said:
You were four years old and I came home from work. Removed my jacket. Your little hands running through my coat. I always brought home a treat. Some hershey kisses. Kit kat, A Kinder Egg from Germany. The happiest you'd get all day. Jumping, bouncing on our waterbed.

"What do you want me to be when I grow up, daddy"? "err...a scientist". "YEAH!"

And you loved reading about the solar system, and you loved dinosaurs and you loved the forest and all the life around you. And you were so smart. So smart. We read to you every night at bedtime, until we realized you were reading the next line before myself or mommy did. And then it didn't matter whether I had read you the book before. In second grade your teacher described how you went through all of the ELA curriculum workbooks she had in the classroom and circled the grammatical mistakes that slipped by the publishers.

Then mommy died with your brother and you stopped talking to me. You just read and read. About everything. I don't know if you found any answers there. In high school when you tried to change your brain by weaving it with phenethylamines and tryptamines and dissociatives and thc, I don't know if you found any answers there. When you graduated first in your class you thought that you didn't deserve it because you didn't try. When you got into college for free you thought it was a joke. I know you skipped class and spent most of the time stoned with your friends out in the orchard. I was once there too buddy.

But you still did it. You became a scientist. You wrote papers, headed labs, performed original research in everything from chemistry to molecular biology to German history. I don't know what you read during those years. Did you like what you found? The world is a cold and unforgiving place.

You were always too self-aware. I remember when you were two years old and riding the carousel on the playground. Your mom smiled and waved at you with a video camera. You looked down, flushed with embarrassment. You were two. I've never seen a toddler express embarrassment before. You were too aware. You did everything you could to dim the light just a little. I wonder if you found relief when you finally hit the switch.

I'm so glad your mom wasn't there. I'm so glad your little brother wasn't there. They're flowers now. You always delighted in life. I couldn't bury you like I did mom or Alex. You went into the oven. Into that bright light you became dark as coal. Nothing grew from your ashes. It's just ashes. It's not you. It's just trash.

When I threw that cheap ash-filled urn out of my car window on the way home, I smiled. I know you wouldn't have given a fuck anyway buddy.

What is life?
Click to expand...
Holy fucking shit. I can't stop crying, a parent losing everything is one thing that resonates the very sound of pain more than anything else on this earth.
 
Transcendence said:
My god, I just keep staring at the avatar that my son chose who knows how long before his death. It's so fitting and meaningful and full of acceptance if not transcendence. In a way I feel like this is his grave. His real grave. Not just a virtual shrine. I think he wants me to move on. The ashes of my progeny and the decomposition of life feed the carbon cycle of some other life form somewhere on this rock.

ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space
Click to expand...

As a parent your loss breaks my heart.
 
I want to thank you all for your empathy. I feel so strongly about the importance of this community. For every life we lose here, you people protect dozens more.

I constantly think what the world would be like if the US and the international community would have adopted a similar harm-reduction model instead of burying their heads in the sand and declaring war on humanity. Denial, Denial, how many more decades and deaths and ruined lives will we have to endure before we realize that prohibition is and has never been the answer. As a great man once said, the "War on Drugs" is a war on our own families.

I don't regret the path I've chosen in life [to become an educator], but I do wish I had more power to lobby for change at a higher level.
 
Wow, this thread is beautiful. And I loved reading how you went through all his posts. Very, Very cool and touching. It's been almost three years and you still [I'm assuming your a sibling or parent?] come and check up on this thread and posts here! That's very nice

I did ambien two times times, and it made me lose consciousness, I would wake up the next day on the floor, or in a very awkward position with a stiff neck. I know I am a little late in posting this, because I was not active here in 2012, But deep down inside I am sure it was just an honest mistake that caused him his life. I'm assuming he was trying to make the 60mg of Oxy "work better"

Was he 22/23?. I hope your out there in space looking at your loved one use your BL account Transcendence!
 
Your post about bringing home treats and all the rest of it had me in tears. I'm SO sorry. So sorry for your pain and loss. My heart is aching for you.

I never interacted with your son. I just joined BL recently.

I just wanted to tell you, your posts are beautiful. Your personality is beautiful and open-minded. The fact that you post here is beautiful. Truly, this thread is.....just BEAUTIFUL.

Some people bear such a huge amount of loss in their lifetime. I can't even begin to imagine... my God.

Your son loves you, so very, very much. Do you ever talk to him, out loud, or in your mind?

Thank you for sharing with us here. Please take good care.

Peace.
 
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His death wasn't ruled a suicide, and I don't think he was suicidal, but I know he was using drugs partly to experiment and recreationally but also to treat issues of anxiety. I do still have conversations with him in my head. He would be 25 today if he were alive.
 
Aww. A full ten years younger than I. Keep talking to him. Out loud if you're comfortable.

Do you believe he hears you?

May peace be yours.

Xo
 
Transcendence said:
His death wasn't ruled a suicide, and I don't think he was suicidal, but I know he was using drugs partly to experiment and recreationally but also to treat issues of anxiety. I do still have conversations with him in my head. He would be 25 today if he were alive.
Click to expand...
So tragic. I am so sorry for your loss. He was only exactly 2 days younger than me.
 
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