Closure: Impossible

How could there be closure when I do not know why he walked the door? I have so many questions that I wish I could ask Henry - yet I cannot. My attempts in the past were immediately cut off and, if I insisted, he became angry. One conversation in particular, when Henry was beyond angry with me, he called me the most vulgar, disrespectful, horrifying and unimaginable names that he could come up with. I had never - NEVER - heard Henry use such vile words towards anyone. Least of all me.

Common sense tells me that questions not asked will never be answered and the result is the closure I seek will always be beyond my reach.

I have learned that closure, in some instances, can never be obtained because death, in and of itself, IS a closure. Right?

Looking for answers in order to find closure with Henry is not possible and, even if I were to find it, it would be only temporarily satisfying. A Pandora's Box so to speak.

For me, all my questions for Henry are whirling within my brain at breakneck speed - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Most of the time I am glad that the majority of our conversations happen via text messages because then I can say out loud, to myself, all the things I cannot type. For example, "I Love You", "I Miss You", "Please come home to me", "If you ask, I will say yes" - or, cry like a baby because I can't write any of that to him for fear of him running further away from me.

Still - more than 7 years later - his is the first voice I want to hear when I awaken every morning and the last voice I want to hear before I fall asleep. I want him to bury his face in my hair and breathe me in. I want to hear "Hi, there", then tell me about his day and travels. More than anything, I need to hear him say "I Love You".

"Why don't you just move on?" I've heard that more than once in the past seven years and while "I will - just haven't found the right one yet" rolls off my tongue, the truth is I HAD the right one. Now I don't because I lost him when he lost himself. While he may eventually find himself again, I can only pray that he will search for me too.

So, as the holidays come rolling in and imperfect families come together, with their fake smiles and air-kisses, counting down the minutes as they force themselves to stay a polite amount of time, bid their farewells - and bolt out the door, thanking God that they have survived another family Christmas. Or is that just me?

Christmas 2012 was Xavier's first Christmas - and the last time I had my three boys together and with me.

As has happened the past 5 years, I have no intention of, nor energy for, erecting a Christmas tree. I don't feel the need to hang Christmas decorations even if it is what people are supposed to do this time of year. Right? The only person looking at all the festive clutter would be me. No thank you.

With surgery only 5 days and a wake-up away, there really isn't any need for me to get into the holiday spirit.