The day I lost my rudder

I was thinking about how I could possibly explain to someone how it feels to have lost your only child.

Imagine a sailboat without a rudder. For a really long time.

While I was successful in my career, motherhood was really my thing. Work was what I did to make money so I could raise my son.

After my childhood with a mother totally devoid of nurturing I probably entered adulthood without a rudder. When I became a mom suddenly I was able to set sail to wonderful places. There were storms and near disasters, but Gabe and I had such a strong rudder we were always able to find our way and get back on course. We loved the ride.

The last few years we still loved our time together but serious structural problems had developed. He had a drug addiction that after years of trying to fend off it finally took his life on November 17, 1999. He was 22 years old. There’s a lot to that story, but that’s for another day.

To say the rudder completely fell off at that point is an understatement of unimaginable magnitude.

After that there were dark days, terrible storms, unending rough seas and without a rudder I was slammed all over the place. A few years later when the storms finally subsided and a little sunshine broke through I found I was hopelessly lost and still lacking a rudder. For the most part the dark storms are behind me. But I still have no rudder. Any little gust of wind or thunderstorm seems to blow me around. I feel I am so far off course there’s no way I will ever find my way back. Gabe was my rudder and he can never be replaced.

I remember the days of fast, exhilarating sailing and being so happy I thought I would burst. I hope I see days like those again.

I’m a little sailboat all alone in an enormous sea. For now I bob along hoping the weather stays calm and hoping something will come along and give me at least a makeshift rudder again. I long to once again set a course and follow it.