After the end

3 o’clock this afternoon, will be exactly 12 weeks since Lawrence stopped living.

There are still days I can’t get out of bed. The seemingly smallest things can crush me. For example, I was doing laundry and at the end of folding, as usual, I was left with several unmatched boy socks. The thought crossed my mind, that well, now I can just throw these away and not worry about tracking down their twins. It wrecked me.

I remembered how, for the first two weeks I was back to work after Lawrence was born and maternity leave ended, I carried one of his baby socks in my pocket to squeeze when I missed him too much. And now, I’m contemplating throwing his mismatched socks away. I’ve sunk so low.

I sent an SOS group text to my tribe and asked who had time for a phone call. My friend, Lisa, amazing friend and loving mother of 4 called right away. She cried with me, and talked to me while I gathered up the loner socks and put them in a bag and placed them in his room. We decided that I might throw them away at some point, but today isn’t that day.

After I got off the phone I had 2 or 3 missed texts from other friends on the chain, checking in and seeing if I needed help or to talk.

When I started writing today, I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about, but I know now. My friends, my support, my tribe, my family of choice.

To understand why my friends are so important you have to know a little about my family history. I was one of 5 children, and I grew up in a loving, but very strict home, religiously. We were Jehovah’s Witnesses. When I became an adult and realized that their logic had flaws and I didn’t want to live my life that way, I was shunned (they call it disfellowshipped) from the church and my entire family.

That process started around 2000-2001. But culminated in an announcement at one of their services that I was officially disfellowshipped after it became known that I was pregnant with Lawrence and unmarried in 2003. This decision and “announcement” made it clear to anyone in the church that I was dead to them, and if they were found to have a relationship with me, they would similarly be shunned. This included my immediate family and basically everyone I knew outside of the people that I work with.

Since the mid-90s I’ve worked in veterinary medicine. We, as a profession, generally are good, empathetic, compassionate people. And many of my coworkers became my fast friends. ( I have also made a few great friendships in the community with parents of kids that Lawrence played sports with, but in the beginning all of my friends were from the vet med world.)

There were several years that I’d host “Intern Thanksgiving”. I’d invite any of our interns or anyone else who didn’t have anywhere to go on Thanksgiving to come and eat, and enjoy each other’s company. That’s just one small example of some of the great times that we had.

Over the years between then and now, I was often depressed, and felt unlovable, because, after all, my own family could do without me. It was literally Lawrence and I against the world for many years. It took this tragedy with Lawrence to appreciate that the friendships I had developed over the last 25 years, have become my family- “framily”.

Starting the day Lawrence died, my framily had my back. Even before I left the hospital after meeting with the officers, 2 previous coworkers, Lora and Jess, were in the room crying with me and hugging me. We hadn’t worked together for several years, but they proved they were my tribe. Another previous co-worker, my friend, Josie, mother of 3, who lives about an hour away, didn’t make it to the hospital, but did come and spend the night with me that first night and held me while I cried in his bed.

I would be remiss if I didn’t include my sister, Carissa and her husband Bob, at this point. They were the first ones to arrive at the hospital, and have been huge supports to me and continue to be there whenever I need them. Carissa was only a kid (15yrs) when I left the religion, and it wasn’t until about 10 years later that she too broke away from their control and we now have a wonderful relationship. Carissa and Bob loved Lawrence, and he thought they were the coolest aunt and uncle ever.

Over the next several weeks, there was a constant stream of visitors, condolence phone calls, emails and texts from my framily. Some of whom I hadn’t seen or talked to in close to 20 years. They came to sit with me so I wouldn’t be alone, they brought food and tissues. My friend and previous co-worker, Hollie, came to stay for a few days from Columbus, Ohio. Texts and calls came in from all over the country. In addition to this tremendous emotional support, hundreds of people generously contributed to a memorial fund for Lawrence’s funeral.

I remember thinking I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to be so full and so empty at the same time. After all the years of focusing on not having the support of my family, I never recognized how many beautiful friendships I had made and how I was never really alone.

But now I know. Framily- I see you, appreciate and love you. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. Thank you for loving me and my boy.