Wednesday, September 7, 2016

A Letter about Losing a Son by Paul Le Blanc


“So many people have sent me loving messages – and aside from a simple ‘thank you’ (because somehow I find that your messages truly help) I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to feel. So I am working my way through that, and what I am writing here, in what follows, is part (only part) of that. Some of you may not need or want to read further, which is okay. And for others of you, here it is …

“Gabriel Seth Le Blanc – my beloved son – was born on February 14, 1971, and he died on September 4, 2016. His life was wondrous – full of creativity and life-force, terrible destructiveness and astonishing redemption, terrible rage and immense love, amazing adventures and truly life-and-death struggles. And although he seemed to come so close, so close to fighting his way through to a truly good place, he lost what was to be his final struggle. 

“In his final struggle, he entered a very dark place, where he had been too many times before, and in that final entry there he accepted the delusion that he was going to be very bad for those he loved the most, and worthless to others he loved, and that the intense pain and self-disgust he was feeling could best be eliminated with two bullets. 

“I believe he was lucky to have helped bring a remarkable daughter and a remarkable son into the world, kids who know that he loved them deeply. He was lucky to have had a deep and loving relationship, to have had brothers and friends and family who loved him. He was lucky to have sailed on the high seas and motor-cycled across the country and lived to tell the tale. He was lucky to have created a successful business (though he lost his taste for business) and to have created incredible photography (though sadly couldn’t make a ‘go’ of that). He was lucky that he overcame the horrific destructiveness of alcoholism and drug abuse, and was victorious over those things day after day after day after day up to and including the day he died. He was lucky to have almost, almost, almost fought his way to some of the happiness that he had a right to. 

“It was a happiness that was so much deserved by this little boy who I carried in my arms and held so close, this little boy whose little hand was tightly clasped in mine as we walked along together, this growing young boy so full of warmth and vitality, this very angry adolescent, this man who became so deeply critical of me and the ways I had hurt him and had not come through for him, this man whose own experiences and reflections made it possible for him to know me and embrace me – as I knew and embraced him. My little boy, my dearest son, so wondrous a person who I loved so much. 

“And his family and closest friends, and the many whose lives he touched, are bleeding and weeping. We feel so lucky that he was part of our lives – and the way we miss him is indescribable.”

—Paul Le Blanc

(Posted with permission from Paul Le Blanc)

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