My son fought a short fierce fight, and lost. He kept getting sicker and sicker, and the cancer was so aggressive, that he was gone before I knew it. I told him I would be okay, that his wife and I would take care of each other, that the military would take care of us (he was still active duty when he passed), and not to worry. I lied to him. I’m not okay! And I hate being asked “Are you okay?”, or better yet “How are you doing?” Two questions most feel obligated to lie to anyway, and me even more so now. The problem is I can’t think of a lie, and I don’t want to waste energy telling one if I could. So I just don’t answer. I don’t know if I am ever going to be right again. A friend who lost her son many moons ago recommended I get in contact with other parents here, so here I am. When it’s your adult child, it seems as if most of the outreach goes to the wife, and I agree, she needs it, but I feel as if others expect me just to carry on, because they can’t see the hole in my soul that is sucking the life and joy out of me.