I keep thinking about this thread.
Tom, hopefully - prayerfully - you've been able to surround yourself with supportive people.
It's difficult for a man to be allowed to grieve. Too often is there a stigma attached of "you're a man, you're not allowed to show tears."
When Sarah and I lost Katie I was treated as such by people in periphery. On the first Mother's Day after burying our daughter Sarah was treated like a queen at church. On the first Father's Day, I was treated like **** by the pastor and the lay leader.
The lay leader was going to give a presentation that had nothing to do with Father's Day. It was demanded of me that I had to carry the TV into the Sanctuary as her fat *** husband used the excuse of his bad back that he couldn't.
All I wanted to do was sit in prayer and worship God on a day where I was a father without a child. Instead, I was told that I'm no longer a father and I should just get over it.
This came from an older couple, who chastised Sarah and I for grieving, telling us we weren't parents. Especially me, the man, who should suck it up and deal with it.
I've come across the attitude to a certain extent, from others.
When Sarah passed away, I surrounded myself with good friends and especially family, all of whom loved Sarah in one way or another. The church I was in was loving and kind and full of compassion. The pastor broke down during Sarah's funeral with tears of his own.
I have a good friend whom I met on here who would come to the house and sit with me and talk for hours. Another good friend from one of my former jobs would do the same. They did so in their own, I didn't have to call and ask.
Of course, when I took my sabbatical and traveled up and down the coast I met even more wonderful people from here who full of compassion and support and understanding. I call them all friends, even though I haven't spoken to a few in awhile.
I had to separate myself from negativity. There was enough in my own head.
Seek out the positive in your life, with the positive people who will reaffirm you, who will lift you up and hold you close.
My door is always open. I know money is tight for you, but if you ever find yourself in New York for any reason, you will find there isn't a stranger behind my door.