My Son Died And I'm Not Okay

My son died and I am not okay. For once in my life I can’t be strong. I just want to be…

I spend a lot of time crying and wondering what I could have done differently to save him, but then I realize I loved him only the way his mother could and he loved me back.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe and this burning sensation in the middle of my chest just won’t go away. The tears come early in the morning and memories of him being him flood my dreams at night.

For the past 22 years, Taye has literally been my best friend. He was the ying to my yang. The person I could nerd out with about books, movies, politics, and life in general. He smiled with his whole face, and his laughter was contagious. 

Taye was a James Baldwin fan, Malcolm X was his favorite civil rights activist, and he LOVED Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, Jimi Hendrix, and a band called Death Grips that we once traveled to Houston, Texas to see at an outdoor concert venue. He lived for Star Wars Day (May the 4th be with you), collected comic books and vinyl records, and he loved shopping at thrift stores. An avid reader, this year I introduced him to the author, bell hooks and All About Love. As I was going through his things, I found my old copy and it made me smile. 

In our recent conversations, I shared with him about my obsession with How To Get Away With Murder and They Cloned Tyrone. He told me he’d have to check them out, while referring me to I’m A Virgo, a coming-of-age joyride about a 13ft tall young Black man on Amazon Prime, and the book - Punch Me Up To The Gods by Brian Broome, that he thought I would enjoy. We also talked about politics and how it impacts Blacks, and “Taye stuff” as he liked to call everything else in life.

He got me and I got him when the rest of the world didn’t get either of us, and I am going to miss him dearly for that.

We often corresponded via email after he left home, and now I keep checking my emails hoping there is one from him with a life update. I sleep with my phone, hoping he’ll call just to say hi and ask about our pets and his older brother, Jorden.

Many people thought he was odd and didn’t get him, not realizing Taye was on the Autism spectrum. He would often tell me how he felt so alone and wondered why no one liked him. He was a hopeless romantic, always searching for love. I would remind him of his friends and to focus on loving himself and that the right person would eventually come along, but depression has a way of blinding us to the good in our lives, isolating us from those who care about us and truly love and accept us for who we are, and eventually can choke the fucking life out of us.

For my birthday in May, he gave me a card and inside he shared how he loved me because I always tried to fix things and make life better for him and Jorden; that I always tried to have an answer to their questions, and when I didn’t I went out and searched for it.

I wish there was something I could do to bring him back, to give him one last hug, and tell him how much I love him. But as I read through our correspondence, I realize I told him that every day of his life; when he left out for work in the mornings, before we went to bed at night, and even in our emails when he moved away - I always made sure to let him know that I loved him, that he could always come home, and that I would always be here. If he didn’t know anything else, he knew how much I loved him.

People say, “he’ll always be with you,” but that’s not true. I feel the emptiness of him no longer being physically among us. Yes, the memories we created over the past 22 years of his life will always be here, but I know my son crossed over and I don’t think he’s planning on looking back. Hopefully he’s looking forward to his new start like I taught him, and that he has the help of his grandparents who proceeded him in death.

I can’t give him any advice about this part of his journey. And it hurts like hell that I’m not there to comfort him, encourage him, and dish out my mama hugs while telling him everything is going to be okay. And that is the worst feeling about being a parent and having to bury your child.

The rest of my life is going to be fucking hard and that’s me being honest. But I know Taye wouldn’t want me to be sad and he’d want me to go on with my life - but it’s not going to be easy when 1/2 of my heart is gone.

My hope is that when it’s my time to depart this life that he will come back and be my guide and if he has time in his new life, that he will swing by and check on me and his brother, Jorden sometimes.

I usually don’t ask people to pray for me, but today I am. Please keep me and my oldest son, Jorden in your prayers as we begin this hard transition from a party of three to just the two of us. And pray for my son, Taye, that he has finally found peace and in his next life he’ll find the love of his life and a world filled with people who embrace everyone despite their differences.

As I close, I want to leave you with these words; If you have a child that suffers with depression, always fill them with positive words, and encourage them to get help. Taye worked with several mental health therapists and psychiatrists over the years - even if it meant I had to pay out of my pocket. Prayer alone is not going to make them better. If you have a child that doesn’t fit in - find ways to help them feel included, encourage their interests, talents, and dreams, and tell them how special they are every single day, and that you love them no matter what. Find patience when you feel like you are running out. Kids who suffer with depression and/or on the Autism spectrum require a lot of it. Figure out how to talk to your kid vs fussing at your kid. Taye and I talked about everything - sometimes Jorden said he told me too much. Don’t try and force your child to love who you think is best for them or who you believe is best for your image based on societal norms from when you were growing up or your religious beliefs. Times have changed and our kids have evolved. And lastly, don’t be afraid to hug your child and show affection, even into their adulthood. 

After hearing from so many parents who have young adult children who are on the autism spectrum and suffer with depression, we all realized there are no resources or support for them once they enter adulthood. I want to change that. 

In lieu of flowers his brother and I are starting a memorial fund in his honor that will grant scholarships and grants to young adult artists and creatives who are on the autism spectrum and need someone to contribute to their dreams and give them hope. You can send donations to: Taye Yazeed Memorial Fund, P.O. Box 2054, Gonzales, LA. 70707 or Cash App $DrCareyYazeed.