I bought a balloon and some flowers to put at Treehaven. Since there is no grave, this spot is the closest thing to it. I purchased the flowers and balloon at a local supermarket. While I was on line to buy the items, an employee noticed the balloon was a bit under-inflated and told me they could pump it up with more helium in the bakery department.
I had to wait a few minutes for someone to come, I passed the time staring blankly ahead. Despite feeling relatively OK today, I was still in a bit of a haze. While I waited for the woman to re-inflate the balloon, I noticed a cake in the display case right in front of me. The little sign next to the cake said “Rainbow Cake,” it was a white frosted cake with rainbow sprinkles. How sweet <3
People think I’m strong because I haven’t broken down, because I can talk about my son without crying, because I’m trying to understand life and death.
Am I strong? I’d be the last to know. All I do each day is put one foot in front of the other. I try to find the joy in each day and give as much love as I can to everyone, not just the people I love. I try to focus on what I have and not on what I lost, because I’m alive and I want to live a good and meaningful life.
But it isn’t easy…
This year’s birthday is the second since Nico’s death. The first was tougher, but it’s still hard, especially with Mother’s Day following so soon after. I’m blessed to still have my mom with me, so we do go out to celebrate and that can be hard for me.
What I’ve come to believe is that the my son’s soul and love for me are not dead, it’s just his physical form I have to learn to live without. I have to live without his unique scent, daily hugs, companionship, and sweet disposition.
So that is what death has become to me; letting go of the physical, which is no small thing. I remember feeling sad one night as I tried to fall asleep. I said to myself, “Is this all that’s left from a lifetime of love and memories, an urn filled with your ashes? Were the all struggles and the triumphs meaningless?” A voice in my head came back to me immediately, “That is not me, that was only my vessel. On Earth we experience the soul through the vessel. I am not my vessel.”
Whenever I am missing my son, I feel him telling me, “I’m right here, mom.” After reading many books on the subject, the latest being Love Never Diesby Angela Dawn, I’ve come to believe this is really my son communicating with me, and not just me imagining it because I miss him.
I will talk more about the similar experiences I’ve had to Angela Dawn in later posts in the section “What Really Happens When We Die?” I do highly recommend this book to anyone who has felt like their deceased loved one was speaking to them or sending them signs. This book helped me to trust my instincts and embrace the idea that we can communicate with our loved ones who have passed.
It’s really just about quieting your mind so you can hear them.
I realize I haven’t explained that there is no “official” place called Treehaven. It’s just a little spot off the mountain bike trail at Bethpage State Park. This is the site where my son chose to end his life, and where I placed the original journal. I came up with the name “Treehaven” so I could refer to it more positively instead of just saying “the site” or “where Nico died.” Only people who read the journal would know the site was called Treehaven, because I made it up and wrote about it in the journal.
Treehaven seems to have a very special energy. People are drawn to it, and it is very peaceful and healing. I know it’s hard to understand how I could feel this way knowing my son died there, but my feeling is that it was a kind of sanctuary for him and that he too, felt the peace and special energy of the place.
I made a choice not to bury my son, his cremated remains are on my fireplace ledge. So Treehaven I feel is his grave site, which is why the vandalism hurt so much, as well as the parks department taking down the tree house and cutting limbs off the tree.
For those who found the transcribed journal a bit too long to read through, I wanted to highlight one of the entries that deeply touched me.
To protect privacy, I only identify people who wrote in the journal by their first initial.
2-21-16
Dear Vicki,
There is so much beauty in what you have done here. I am about the same age as your son, and have struggled with depression my entire life.
I attempted to take my own life several weeks ago, and I’ve returned home to Long Island to remember where I came from, where I used to explore as a child amid the simple things that make us remember that life is beautiful.
My exploring brought me to this place, this sacred place that has been given to you and your son so that you may always be together. Know that he loved you and that he knew how much you loved him.
A loved one who knows of my struggles brought me to this park today. He knew it would be good for me to take in fresh air and nature, to do photography and to meditate.
Thank you for building this space. It sounds like you have great plans for the springtime and as the seasons change, know that life moves forward even after the most devastating of tragedies. I feel safe and at peace here, and any bit of comfort helps me fight through my depression. You’ve done a wonderful thing for anyone who passes this spot and takes a moment to stop and reflect.
I am another loving mother’s child, and even in my darkest moments, I know my mother is there, always caring, worrying, supporting me. Your grief speaks to me, as I’m sure my mother would grieve terribly, but also create something beautiful out of the pain.
My thoughts and prayers are with you, Nico, and everyone who cared for him.
And thank you, Vicki, for telling your story. Sometimes we just need someone to hear our words and it reminds us we are never alone.
With love,
L.
This entry really touched me, and it almost felt as if my son was speaking through her, sending me a beautiful message of love and trying to help me understand his struggles. I’m so grateful that people like L wrote in the journal.
Nico at 15-years-old on vacation in Puerto Rico. Good times.
The short and sad story is that my 21-year-old son, Nico, made a decision to end his life. He chose a most beautiful and unusual location to do this; a natural sanctuary marked by a majestic tree.
It was no ordinary tree. It had an extensive tree house built into it.
Treehouse
I wondered how my son knew of this place, off the hiking path in a state park. Did he help to build it? Did he know the people who did? These were just some of the questions I had when my son died. I felt compelled to understand more about this place as I struggled to accept my son’s death. So, I placed a small journal at the site. In it I asked questions and invited people to talk about whatever they wanted to.
Memorial Plaque on Bench at Treehaven- “In Loving Memory of Nico, Loved by many, Understood by few, Missed by all.”
When a tragedy occurs, sometimes comfort comes in unexpected ways.
When I placed a journal at the site where my son died I didn’t expect much. Maybe if I was lucky I’d get some questions answered. To my great surprise many strangers wrote in the journal-reflecting on life, expressing sympathy, and most importantly, sharing their stories and struggles. It became an inspiring, healing journal that far exceeded my expectations.
My hope is that I can continue this journal online and expand it to include a worldwide audience.
